Harry Potter and the Trials of Champions
by WolfsbaneKnight
Summary: [Fourth in the HP/Pokémon series]. Harry returns to Hogwarts School of Pokemon Training and so too does something else. The Tri-Pokemon Tournament, a historical competition between the three foremost Pokemon schools in Europe, will once more be hosted at Hogwarts and with it comes new faces and new challenges as Harry fights for the title of Champion.
1. To The Campsite

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello everyone, I'm back and with me I bring the first chapter of 'Harry Potter and the Trials of Champions'. I hope you've enjoyed the series so far and I hope you continue to enjoy them so, without further ado, lets get started.

* * *

Harry Potter had never had a summer so good. Mind, good was a relative term. Lets just say that he had never had a summer that was this easy.

Life at Number 4 Privet Drive had been something of a hell for Harry, especially since finding out about the world of Pokémon and embracing his position as a young, aspiring, Pokémon trainer. But this summer things had been much less dissatisfactory than the last. Mostly because of the last.

Last summer the Dursleys had made the huge mistake of inviting Vernon's sister Marge around for two whole weeks. As someone who hated Pokémon and anyone connected to them Marge had thrown insult after insult at Harry, but the true hostility of the visit occurred when Marge's prize bulldog, Ripper, had succeeded in sneaking into Harry's room, only to be defeated, with serious injury, by Harry's Charmeleon.

Needless to say the Dursleys did not make the same mistake this summer and had, in fact, gone out of their way to avoid Harry at all costs themselves, even going so far as to cook their own meals and do their own household chores, leaving Harry free to spend almost all of his time in his room.

In none of the Dursleys was this reaction so obvious than it was in Dudley. He stayed away from Harry at all times except meal time and the one time Harry had wandered out of his room as Dudley was passing the rotund boy had gone completely white and had sprinted down the stairs.

The change in Dudley didn't just stop in his reactions towards Harry. The boy was noticeably slimmer than he had been one year ago, although he was easily three times as big as Harry was, and the change in weight could be put solely down to his new hobby, boxing.

As Dudley had never shown any real interest in getting fit, aside from when it involved bullying the other neighbourhood children, Harry could only assume that this was some attempt by Dudley to learn self defence to try and protect himself against Harry and his Pokémon. He spent much of his day in the garage, where Vernon had set up a large punching bag, when he would usually spend his time watching tv or playing computer games in years passed. What was perhaps more shocking was the change in eating habits. While at school, Uncle Vernon's private alma mater Smeltings, Dudley had insisted that his coach draw up a diet plan and he stuck to it religiously, ignoring any attempt by his parents to treat himself every once in a while.

While Harry wasn't exactly happy that Dudley was terrified of him he didn't really think it was the worst thing that could have happened. If anything it had worked out for the best. Dudley had never been in better shape.

Still, Harry didn't care too much about what Dudley, or indeed any of the Dursleys, did in their lives. He was much more interested in the lives that accompanied him in the smallest bedroom of Number 4 Privet Drive.

"Pika," Pikachu said, stretching out his limbs as he awoke from a light doze, sitting up on Harry's bed and blinking blearily up at him. Pikachu was still a young Pokémon, though he was certainly strong, and Harry had only just caught him in the past year, meaning he had never met the Dursleys before. Needless to say, in his childly innocence, he had not expected them to be so unpleasant towards him.

Across the room Charmeleon gave a short grunt to Pikachu, acknowledging the smaller and younger Pokémon. Harry's starter, and also the Pokémon to thank for the current state of fear the Dursleys felt for Harry, was leaning idly against the wall beneath the window, waiting.

What they were waiting for was due to arrive at any moment and Harry quickly checked through his desk drawers to assure himself that everything he needed was already packed away in his trunk.

The doorbell rang and Harry was quick to leap from his chair and go to the front door.

Two years ago Uncle Vernon had been the one to open the front door to meet Mr Weasley, leading to a rather unpleasant face to face. This time Harry beat him to it, the Dursley patriarch seeming to decide to stay out of the way on this occasion, and Harry opened the door.

"Harry!"

Harry had to struggle not to laugh. Mr Weasley stood before him, smiling broadly, and perched upon his head was a large, emerald green hat, shaped like a shamrock.

"Hi Mr Weasley," Harry greeted, smiling broadly as Mr Weasley beamed at him. The father of his best friend Ron, Mr Weasley was someone you just couldn't help but like. He had an infectious enthusiasm for even some of the most mundane things and never stopped smiling.

"Well then, let's not stand around here all day," Mr Weasley said excitedly. "We must be off. Ireland versus Bulgaria. Tonight! We mustn't miss it."

"My trunk's up in my room," Harry told him, preparing to go and get it, but as soon as Harry turned to run up the stairs Mr Weasley followed.

"Hello there, Charmeleon," Mr Weasley said excitedly as he walked into Harry's room. "Oh, and you have a Pikachu too. Wonderful." Harry smiled.

"This is Mr Weasley," Harry told Pikachu, who looked really confused. "He's Ron's dad." That Pikachu seemed to understand for he cried out happily and ran over, climbing up Mr Weasley's legs and all the way onto his shoulder.

"My, aren't you a friendly one," Mr Weasley said cheerfully. "Got everything? Then lets go," he said, grabbing one end of the trunk at the end of Harry's bed as Harry grabbed the other, Charmeleon following bemusedly behind them as they clambered awkwardly down the stairs and out the front door.

"See you next summer!" Harry shouted back into the house, spying the Dursleys watching his progress from behind the living room window as Harry and Mr Weasley sidled over to Mr Weasley's vehicle.

Mr Weasley had brought his minivan with him this time and Harry could quickly see why, several sets of vivid red hair visible through the windows as Harry and Mr Weasley brought his trunk round the back and opened the door.

"Harry!"

Harry had expected it but still the wall of noise that sounded as the door was opened caused him to jump. Sitting in the back of the minivan, grinning widely, were four of the seven Weasley children; the twins, Fred and George, the only daughter, Ginny, and, of course, Harry's best friend Ron.

"Well don't just stand there," Ron shouted loudly over the babble as each of the Weasley children tried to say something at once. "Get in here." Harry was pulled up by a multitude of arms into the vehicle, Charmeleon clambering up after him as Mr Weasley stowed away Harry's trunk as best he could with what little space they had available.

"Alright, that looks like it will hold," he said contemplatively as he succeeded in lodging Harry's trunk between two seats. "Lets be heading off. Do you want to join me in the front, Pikachu?"

"Pikachu," Pikachu responded affirmatively and Mr Weasley chuckled as he shut the back doors with a slam, seriously darkening the interior of the minivan, before he walked round the side and jumped into the drivers seat.

"You'll have to sit next to me, Pikachu," Mr Weasley told the electric type, who quickly hopped off his shoulder. "You can be my navigator." Pikachu looked honoured. "Everyone ready?" Mr Weasley called into the back, getting an affirmative murmur in response. "Then lets go."

The minivan kicked to life and they pulled away from the curb leaving Privet Drive, and with it the Dursleys, behind.

Ron grinned. "Blimey it's good to see you again," he said leaning over the back of his seat to talk to him.

"We were simply lost without you," George said dramatically.

"Oh how we yearned to never again be parted," Fred added.

"Boys," Mr Weasley called with a slight warning note in his voice.

"It's good to be back," Harry admitted, grinning at Fred and George's antics. He had missed the troublesome twins almost as much as he'd missed Ron and his other best friend, Hermione Granger. Indeed, now that he was seeing them again it made him yearn to see the rest of his friends from Hogwarts; Hermione, Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Hagrid, Oliver Wood, Colin Creevey, Professor Dumbledore…

"Your Pokémon are looking good," Ron commented, giving a thumbs up to Charmeleon. "Dad seems to like Pikachu."

"I think the feeling's mutual," Harry commented dryly. Up front Pikachu had taken up a position just behind the windscreen, seemingly taking his job as navigator very seriously.

"I keep forgetting Pikachu's still young," Ron commented as he glanced over too. Pikachu had been found by the trio almost exactly a year ago, searching through Harry's bag for shelter after being separated from his parents.

"Still, we're quite used to this sort of behaviour at home," Ron added.

"Why?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well we've got a new member of the Weasley Pokémon Squad, don't we," Fred said loudly.

"You do?" Harry asked. "You caught a Pokémon?"

"Not us," George corrected. "Weasley number seven." It took Harry a moment to figure out what he meant but as he did he turned to Ginny.

"You caught a new Pokémon?" he asked interestedly. Ginny blushed. She had a tendency to do that when Harry spoke or even looked at her.

"Yep," Fred replied, robbing Ginny of the chance to do it herself. "A cute little grass type to add some extra spice to the family."

"Not that this family needs any more spice," George corrected hurriedly.

"Quite right," the quiet voice of Mr Weasley was heard from the front. Fred and George sniggered.

"What Pokémon did you catch?" Harry asked, turning back to Ginny. She blushed again and, in her attempt to answer, let out a small choking sound. Harry did his best not to say anything, instead waiting for Ginny to gather her composure.

"A Chikorita," she explained quietly.

"Can I see it?" Harry asked. Again Ginny blushed but she nodded, pulling out a Pokéball.

"Chiko!" The Pokémon, cute just as Fred had said it would be, appeared on the floor of the minivan and looked around, eventually turning to look towards Ginny.

"Hey Chikorita, I want you to meet a friend," Ginny said softly, and Harry had to be impressed with the way Ginny's shyness in front of Harry disappeared when talking to her Pokémon. "This is Harry. Remember I told you about him." A moment after these words passed her lips Ginny blushed red once more and didn't look up.

"Hey there Chikorita, it's nice to meet you," Harry said in a friendly voice. Chikorita tilted her head to the side, intensely cute, before giving out a happy cry.

"Chiko!" she shouted, leaping up and jumping into Harry's lap, nuzzling affectionately into his chest.

"Wow, you are friendly," Harry gasped, trying to contain his surprise. After gathering himself he started to pet the small grass type, Chikorita practically purring under his touch.

"Will you look at that," Fred said incredulously.

"That Chikorita sure works quick," George agreed with an impressed note in his voice. "To think, Ginny's been trying for two years to get that far." This time Ginny went red for an altogether different reason.

"Boys," Mr Weasley called again, much more sternly than before, giving the twins a hard look in the rear view mirror. The twins, though usually unapologetic in their mocking, seemed to realise they might have gone too far this time.

"Sorry, Gin," they muttered.

The rest of the trip passed by much more pleasantly, although not without a certain undertone of tension. The five teenagers spent their time entertaining themselves with various games, including I Spy, which Mr Weasley was shockingly good at, and PFG, Harry being able to use a new piece he'd bought over the holidays, Sliggoo, which he used in place of his Marill. Ron still beat him but Harry felt he had a better chance with the second stage dragon Pokémon as opposed to the second stage water one.

During this time Ginny, as though to spite her twin brothers, was incredibly outgoing, speaking loudly and without reservation and generally acting, Harry assumed, like her normal self. Harry hoped it could continue, even though Fred and George didn't look so happy, as it was much easier to get along with Ginny when she wasn't acting all weird around him.

* * *

"How can you say that?" Harry said tiredly, leaning back in his seat, eyes closed. They'd been travelling for hours and the sky had darkened outside. Despite this Mr Weasley remained upbeat, insisting repeatedly that they were 'almost there'.

"Easy," George replied, slouched over the back of his seat. "Kecleon would beat Fletchinder, he's got more battle experience." Harry snorted.

"Fletchinder can fly, you wouldn't lay a hand… er, tongue, on him," Harry argued back.

"You wanna bet?" George countered. "Kecleon can lick anything, it's kind of his thing."

"You really want to lick Fletchinder though," Ron added his two cents. "All those feathers."

"Not to mention the fire," Harry pointed out. "If you try and lick Fletchinder you'll just burn your tongue." The twins glanced at each other.

"He's got a point there," Fred acknowledged. George grimaced.

"Alright, what about Illumise?"

Harry's snort of reply was drowned out by Mr Weasley in the front of the car letting out a jubilant cry.

"We're here," he called into the back, a grin covering his face as the occupants of the minivan quickly turned to scramble to the windows.

Everywhere Harry looked he could see fire. They were trundling towards a large field and as they got closer they realised that the fire they were seeing was in fact originating from hundreds of small camps, each arranged neatly in a small square of land such that rows and columns of firelight spread out as far as the eye could see.

The Minivan pulled to a stop at a large wooden gate, a man walking up to Mr Weasley's window.

"Name?" the man asked with the air of having done this a thousand times already.

"Weasley," Mr Weasley said quickly. "Two sights, side by side I believe. We booked a couple of days ago."

"Alright," the man replied, consulting a clipboard in his hands. He flipped over a couple of pages while Mr Weasley waited anxiously. "Weasley, two sites, one night," he finally said, finding the name. "Will you be paying now or in the morning?"

"Now, I think," Mr Weasley said nervously and he moved to open the glove compartment. Gold galleons, silver sickles and bronze knuts glistened in the light of the minivan and, due to the movement of the glove compartment, fell to the floor.

"Whoops," Mr Weasley said nervously. "Oh dear." He leaned over and started to reach out to pick up the smattering of coins on the floor. Pikachu went to help.

"Oh, thank you Pikachu," Mr Weasley said in relief as he was able to straighten up, unloading the pile of coins on the poor camp manager awkwardly. The manager sifted through the coins.

"You're a galleon short," he said shortly, looking up at Mr Weasley expectantly. Mr Weasley paled.

"I'm sure I had enough there," he said nervously, looking down in worry at the now clear floor at the foot of the passengers seat. "Do you see any Pikachu?" Pikachu shook his head solemnly.

"Found it," Harry said, quickly standing up so he could kneel down behind Mr Weasley's chair, rising to show one glistening golden galleon in his hand.

"Oh, bravo Harry," Mr Weasley congratulated him with no small amount of relief, taking the coin from him and passing it on to the manager. "There we go then."

"You'll want to take the first right and drive until you see a sign with your name," the manager said dully, walking over to a large bucket where he dumped his fee before walking over to the gate. A minute later they were through and trundling slowly between a sea of tents.

"You didn't have to do that," Ron muttered quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to alert Mr Weasley.

"What?" Harry asked.

"The galleon," Ron pointed out. "You didn't find that on the floor, did you." Harry didn't reply to that, there was no point lying. The problem was Harry knew exactly how difficult it was for Mr Weasley to give up so much money to pay for this trip, having seen the contents of the Weasley family vault first hand. Anything he could do to help was well worth it in his opinion.

"Ah, here we are," Mr Weasley said, the cheerfulness back in his tone as he pulled up next to a battered wooden sign sticking out of the ground on which the name 'Weasley' was roughly carved.

"Alright, everyone out," Mr Weasley called through the back. "Fred, George, you're in charge of unpacking the tents, okay. Tent building is not a forte of mine so we'll need to work together." He turned to Pikachu. "Thank you for an excellent journey," he said to the small electric type. "You were a great help." Pikachu beamed.

Vacating the minivan was harder than Harry would have expected. With Harry's trunk packed away and the many bags filled with tent poles and pegs there wasn't much room for movement and Harry was very grateful to get out and get some good clean fresh air.

"Alright, let's start getting those tents up," Mr Weasley said, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. "This shouldn't be too difficult."

It was.

Mr Weasley, it quickly became apparent, had never put up a tent before in his life. Neither had any of his children. In fact, Harry's vague memories of reading a camping guide back when he went to school in Little Whinging was the greatest expertise they had on the subject.

Nevertheless they stuck at it and soon enough the campsite, or rather two separate adjacent campsites, were filled with five two man tents.

"Whew, that was hard work wasn't it," Mr Weasley said with a smile, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We'll keep most of our stuff in the van so we should be quite comfortable in these."

"Speak for yourself," Ron grumbled. The absence of a comfortable seat was clearly changing his mind on the benefits of camping.

Suddenly Harry was blinded by a bright light and he threw a hand in front of his face to block it out, the sight painful as night had really fallen now. Soon the light moved on and he was able to look and see its source; Mr Weasley's blue Ford Anglia.

"Sorry we're late," a voice said as the car doors opened. "Got stuck in a bit of traffic." Charlie Weasley, second eldest of the Weasley brothers, had appeared from the front passenger's seat, grinning broadly at them.

"Good to see you, Harry," he said, grasping Harry's hand firmly as they met. Harry had met Charlie a year and a half ago while spending Christmas at the Burrow and had instantly taken a liking to the boy. Having already graduated from Hogwarts he now worked at a reserve for dragon type Pokémon, holding an array of powerful dragon types in his party, along with his starter, Charizard.

Also exiting the car was Percy, the third eldest brother, looking quite pale and giving Harry the impression that the most bookish of the Weasleys didn't travel very well.

From the seat beside Percy appeared a figure Harry knew only too well.

"Harry!" Hermione Granger squealed, throwing herself at Harry and wrapping him in a bone crushing hug that even Hagrid, the enormous groundskeeper at Hogwarts, would be proud of.

"Easy Hermione, let the man breath," Ron said, though he was grinning. Hermione did so with a huff to Ron before turning her attention back to Harry.

"It's been too long," she proclaimed, positively beaming. "Oh Harry, you're looking well."

"So are you," Harry replied. Indeed Hermione was a vision of health, her skin obviously tanned even in the poor lighting and even her hair appeared somewhat tamed.

"My parents took me to France this summer," she explained, looking thrilled to be recounting the trip. "Two weeks in Paris. Oh Harry, you should have seen it. Absolutely beautiful, and with such interesting history."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron interrupted. "Save it, Hermione, you've got a whole year to bore us to death with stories." He turned to Harry. "Anyway, I don't think you've met. This is my brother, Bill."

Bill Weasley, the oldest of the Weasley brothers and easily an adult in his own right, had appeared from the drivers seat and Harry could not help but be impressed. He looked, for lacking a better word, cool.

"Hello there Harry," he greeted, griping Harry's hand in a firm handshake. When Harry had heard others talk of Bill, most often how he'd got excellent grades and was Head Boy at Hogwarts, Harry had always pictured him as an older version of Percy. Yet his long red hair, tied up in a ponytail, and his piercing, from which a large fang dangled from, suggested anything but.

"Where are Fred and George?" Charlie asked, scanning the area and realising that the twin pranksters were nowhere to be seen.

"Out collecting firewood," Mr Weasley explained. "We're not far from the forest so I didn't expect them to be gone for so long… ah, here they are now." Fred and George had just appeared round the back of Mr Weasley's minivan, arms filled with twigs and branches.

"Sorry we're late," Fred said uncaringly, dumping his load to the ground unceremoniously. "Bumped into Lee in the forest."

"Lee's here?" Harry asked in surprise. Charlie snorted.

"Pretty much everyone's here," he told him. "This is the first time the Quidditch World Cup final has been held in Britain in years. Everyone who's anyone in the world of Pokémon will be here."

"Which is why we were so lucky to get such good tickets," Mr Weasley said excitedly.

"How _did_ we get such good tickets?" George asked curiously. Bill laughed.

"You can thank Ludo Bagman for that," he told them, to everyone's confusion.

"Ludo Bagman? You mean the Head of the Department for Pokémon Games and Sports?" Ron asked.

"Exactly," Bill confirmed. "He's the reason we got tickets at all. Top box at that. He must have really owed you big time, dad." Mr Weasley waved it away.

"Oh, it was nothing," he said airily. "I merely helped out his brother when he got in a spot of bother with the muggle authorities. It was no big deal, a bit of a misunderstanding really, but Ludo was still very grateful and offered me the tickets as a thank you. And with such a Quidditch mad family as I have I just couldn't say no." The various Quidditch fanatics in the Weasley family grinned at each other. Percy still looked sick.

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's the first chapter of 'Trials of Champions'. I hope you enjoyed it and I will see you all next time.


	2. The Quidditch World Cup

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Soon enough they were all settled around a roaring camp fire, Charmeleon helpfully supplying the fuel with his tail, and they were all digging into a pack of nice, fat, juicy sausages which they cooked over the flames.

"Why don't we all let our Pokémon out," Mr Weasley suggested, and at that he released his two Pokémon, Magby and Quilava.

"Good thinking dad," Fred said excitedly, releasing his Kecleon and Volbeat, George similarly releasing his Kecleon and Illumise. Across the campsite red light flashed as people let out a selection of their Pokémon and soon the campsite was filled to bursting.

"I don't think it would be a good idea to let Misdreavus out," Hermione commented as she released her Noctowl. "I think if she and Gastly were to get together it would be a recipe for disaster." She smiled at Ginny.

"Good call," Ron agreed, placing a hand on the back of Torkoal's shell as the fire type rested comfortably by the campfire. Ginny had released her Vulpix, which sat comfortably in her lap, while Chikorita went chasing after Pikachu, the one Pokémon young enough to want to play with her. Percy had let out his Natu and Dunsparce, who sat quietly with him, and Bill didn't let out any Pokémon at all. Harry wondered why.

Charlie reached for a Pokéball.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Charlie?" Mr Weasley asked worriedly. "Your Pokémon are quite big." Charlie grinned.

"This guy's new," he told them, holding up the Pokéball and a Pokémon burst forth, a small, orange Pokémon. Harry picked up his Pokédex and pointed it at the new Pokémon.

"Trapinch, the Ant Pit Pokémon. Trapinch's nest is a sloped bowl like pit dug in sand. This Pokémon patiently waits for prey to tumble down the pit. Its great jaws have enough strength to crush even boulders."

"He's one of the Pokémon from the reserve," Charlie explained. "I'm looking after him for awhile."

"Doesn't look much like a dragon type to me," Ron commented, squinting curiously at the Pokémon.

"That's because Trapinch is a ground type Pokémon," Hermione said excitedly. "When they evolve into Vibrava they gain the dragon typing and then they evolve again into Flygon."

Charlie nodded. "Trapinch here is part of our breeding program but we're transferring him over to Hogwarts to mingle with the Trapinch, Vibrava and Flygon over there. Unfortunately he's not very well, that's why I have to look after him until we can pass him on to Madam Pomfrey."

"He's so cute," Ginny gushed, leaning over to get a better view of the Pokémon. Charlie laughed.

"You say that now but just wait until you get stuck in a pit trap with him," he warned. "Some of the hardest Pokémon to deal with, Trapinch are."

The evening passed, and as it did Harry could feel the excitement in the area start to rise. He didn't know when the match was starting but he could see people at neighbouring camp sites starting to look more animated. Nearly every space was taken now and with darkness falling completely the only way to see them was from the bright fires that burned at the heart of every campsite.

Their gathering was interrupted not long later as a man walked from around the back of Mr Weasley's minivan.

"Arthur!" he cried out cheerfully and Mr Weasley, looking up suddenly, smiled at the new arrival.

"Amos," he greeted, standing up to shake the man's hand.

"I thought I recognised the van," the man, Amos, said cheerfully, patting the back of the van merrily.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," Mr Weasley introduced, and Harry started slightly at the name, for the first time taking a good look at the man. He was quite tall, standing even taller than Mr Weasley, and had a round, friendly looking face upon which sat a scrubby brown beard. He rubbed his eyes as he looked at the entourage of people and Pokémon in the campsite.

"Great Scott, Arthur," he said. "They aren't all yours are they?" Mr Weasley laughed.

"Only the redheads," he said cheerfully. "You know Bill and Charlie of course," he said, gesturing to the oldest two who nodded respectfully to the older man. "And this is Percy, he just graduated from Hogwarts and is working for the Department for International Cooperation," Mr Weasley beamed as he said this. Percy looked proud. "These are Fred and George of course, I'm sure you've heard of them."

"Certainly," Amos said with a merry laugh.

"And this is my youngest son Ron, and my daughter Ginny, and Ron's friends Hermione Granger and Harry Potter." Amos Diggory did a double take.

"Harry Potter, did you say?" he repeated, squinting at Harry with something akin to awe. Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Of course I've heard all about you," Mr Diggory said. "I think you know my son, he's at Hogwarts too. Cedric! Cedric, come over here! I want you to meet some people."

Tall, handsome Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff student two years above Harry, appeared round the back of Mr Weasley's minivan, looking as surprised to see them as Harry was to see him.

"This is my son, Cedric," Mr Diggory said proudly, clasping his son on the shoulder. The family resemblance was quite clear now they were standing side by side. "Ced, meet Arthur Weasley, a good friend and colleague of mine."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Cedric said politely, shaking Mr Weasley's hand.

"Delighted to meet you too," Mr Weasley replied genially. "These are my children, and their friends. I believe you know some of them." Cedric nodded, giving a smile towards Harry. Unfortunately Amos spoke up before he could.

"Yes, I was just about to tell Arthur how you played Quidditch against young Mr Potter," Mr Diggory said, plonking himself down by the fire and encouraging his son to join him. "It's a pity you weren't able to play to a finish." Harry's stomach clenched. He hated being reminded of that day.

"I'm sure we'll be able to play again this year," Cedric assured his father in a tone that suggested he'd heard this many times before. Mr Diggory just smiled.

"Maybe," he said with a shrug before moving on to talk about something else. Harry frowned. That was a bit weird and, judging by the reactions around him, he wasn't the only one who thought so. Cedric in particular had a thoughtful look on his face before he shook himself and turned to Harry.

"How is Fletchinder?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

"He's doing okay but I had to leave him with Madam Pomfrey over the summer," he explained. Cedric nodded in understanding.

"She'll look after him," he assured Harry. Harry already knew this but he still felt grateful for Cedric's support.

They spent a further fifteen, twenty minutes in the company of the Diggory's, Amos talking work with Mr Weasley while Cedric told them all about his fascinating family holiday to Tokyo only a few weeks ago. Hermione was listening with rapt attention, clearly finding what the Hufflepuff had to say very interesting. Ginny, too, was enjoying Cedric's stories, gazing almost adoringly up at him. Harry guessed he was no longer the only boy Ginny had a crush on.

Eventually a loud horn sounded across the campsite and Mr Weasley jumped to his feet in excitement.

"It's time," he said in a hushed voice and everyone else quickly climbed to their feet, moving out to join the throngs of people that were making their way along the thoroughfare between the camps and towards the forest.

Harry, Ron and Hermione fell to the back of the group.

"That visit to Tokyo sounded absolutely fascinating," Hermione gushed as the trio followed along behind the others, thankful for the sea of red hair that told them they were going in the right direction. Ron grunted.

"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport," Hermione said without venom. "I know you are not interested but it is said that Pokémon originate from Japan." Ron just glared mutinously forward.

"It's not that," he said shortly, stomping his feet rather more loudly than necessary as he walked. "I just don't like the way Ginny was looking at him." Hermione looked shocked.

"I don't really think that was Cedric's fault," she said, defending the older boy. Ron just grunted. "It wasn't like he was trying to flirt with her or anything," Hermione continued. "Besides, he's way too old for her, and he has a girlfriend. Cho Chang."

"She's pretty," Harry commented absently. Ron and Hermione both turned to look at him in surprise. "What?" Harry asked defensively. "It's just a fact. I've played her at Quidditch, remember."

Ron snorted. Hermione giggled. Harry decided to just feel glad they seemed to have forgotten their argument about Ginny.

"Come on you three, don't fall behind," Mr Weasley called from ahead of them, gesturing for them to hurry up. They did so, squeezing through the few people who had managed to get in their way whilst they weren't looking, and caught up with the rest of the group.

"Well Arthur, our entrance is this way," Mr Diggory said, gesturing off to the left. "I suppose I'll see you at work."

"See you later, Amos," Mr Weasley replied and the Diggorys moved away, Cedric giving a small wave to the group that was returned with various levels of enthusiasm. "Alright you lot, we're almost there."

The Quidditch stadium appeared as if out of nowhere. Situated within the trees Harry didn't have a clear view of it until he was mere feet away as Mr Weasley showed his tickets to the administrator, who looked rather put upon at seeing such a large group.

"Ten tickets, top box," he confirmed, scanning over the group and doing a quick headcount before handing the tickets back to Mr Weasley. "Keep climbing the stairs all the way up."

"Thank you," Mr Weasley said before walking inside, leading the gaggle of redheads and accompanying friends into the stadium where they were immediately met by a set of solid metal stairs.

It was a long climb. Higher and higher they went, passing several landings where they could hear animated chatter from various Quidditch fans, including many voices in languages Harry couldn't understand. With every landing Harry hoped it would be the last but they kept on going higher and higher until they finally came out at the very top.

"Arthur!" They were greeted at the top by an exuberant welcome from a large, blonde, rosy faced man who looked, Harry thought, as though he'd gotten a Mega Punch to the face, his nose awfully crooked. Mr Weasley, however, smiled as he saw him.

"Ludo," he greeted, shaking the exuberant guy's hand.

"Come on in, come on in," Ludo, who Harry had to assume was Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department for Pokémon Games and Sports, gestured. "We're not long to start now. You're one of the last to arrive."

Upon entering the box Harry came upon the realisation that top box meant top. They were higher than anyone else in the stadium, having a terrific birds eye view of the pitch below, and the company for the match proved to match the majestic sight.

Catching Harry's eye immediately was Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Pokémon and the highest ranking official in Pokémon Britain. He was sitting next to another, much large man who Harry could only assume was his Bulgarian counterpart, due to the incredibly stilted nature of their conversation.

"You'll be sitting here," Bagman told them, directing them to an entire row of seats situated just in front of Fudge and the Bulgarian Minister, and unfortunately just behind the other people in the box Harry recognised.

Draco Malfoy, seated next to his father, Lucius, and a woman that could only be his mother, had noticed them the moment they'd walked in, a sneer fixed firmly on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something cutting, never one to miss a chance to put them down, but it seemed as though the presence of such high ranking Ministry officials caused him pause. Instead he just settled with a sneer before turning away, looking out over the pitch.

"I'm afraid I'll have to leave you here," Bagman said, not sounding sorry about it at all. "As it happens I'm currently on duty," he added with a wink, gesturing to the side of the box just next to the entrance where a microphone had been set up.

"The game should be starting soon," Mr Weasley said in anticipation. "Excited?"

Harry was. He'd never seen a professional game of Quidditch, having only witnessed the games at Hogwarts, and he was sure it would be even more exhilarating and awe-inspiring than what he saw at the school. Down below the stands were quickly filling up and all around Harry could see banners of red and green. He could hardly wait.

"There you are, Barty, what kept you?" Harry's attention was drawn away by the voice of Ludo Bagman, sounding both cheerful and exasperated. The man who had just appeared fixed him with a disdainful look.

"I've been busy, Ludo," he said sharply, his voice as crisp as his suit as he spoke in clipped tones. "Organising an international tournament of this magnitude is no mean feet." Bagman just grinned.

At the end of the aisle Percy leapt to his feet.

"Mr Crouch," he said, almost breathlessly, his posture stiffening.

"Crouch is head of the Department for International Cooperation," Charlie whispered helpfully in Harry's ear. "Percy idolises him." Mr Crouch looked rather taken aback by the boy's actions but quickly gathering himself, seeming to finally recognise him.

"Oh. Hello Weatherby." Harry had to stop himself from laughing. Crouch's eyes roved over the rest of the box and moved down the line from Percy until they reached Mr Weasley, recognition more clear this time.

"Arthur," he greeted, his tone still clipped but much more friendly than before.

"Barty," Mr Weasley greeted, standing up and shuffling down the line of seats to shake the man's hand. "Good to see you. I trust you are well." Mr Crouch did not look well to Harry but that didn't stop the man from giving a brisk nod.

"This is your son?" he questioned, gesturing to Percy who was still standing to attention, as though faced with a commanding officer.

"Yes, Percy," Mr Weasley said with a smile. Mr Crouch nodded.

"You should be proud," he said crisply. "He is an efficient and capable worker." The compliment was delivered briskly and without feeling. Nevertheless Percy looked like Christmas had come early.

"Thank you, sir," he stammered out. "It's an honour to work for you." The small reunion was broken as a loud gong reverberated around the box and everyone turned their attention to the source, where Bagman stood grinning.

"It's time," he said excitedly. "Everyone to your seats. We're about to get started." As Mr Weasley squeezed his way back down the line to his seat and Mr Crouch sat down next to Cornelius Fudge, Ludo Bagman stood in front of the microphone. He took a swig of water, gurgling uncouthly, before spitting it out and switching the mic on.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Bagman shouted and huge cheers rose round the stadium at the sound of his voice, everyone desperate for the game to begin.

"Welcome to the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!" Bagman continued. "Let us welcome both teams with all our enthusiasm. Firstly, after defeating Peru in what is arguably the greatest match of this year's World Cup; Ireland!"

The crowd roared, green banners waved from every corner and from beside Harry the Weasley children hooted and hollered their support. It was clear that Ireland were the home favourites, but that would not stop the Bulgarian supporters.

"And the winners of the second semi-final in the quickest game in recent World Cup history at only seventeen minutes against Luxembourg; Bulgaria!" The roar from the Bulgarian supporters rivalled that of the Irish.

"Now let's meet the teams. First, the Irish National Quidditch Team!" As Bagman said this a trio of Pokémon flew across the pitch, their bodies cream coloured with their hair streaked with red and blue.

"Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!" The stadium filled with applause as the seven human members of the Irish National Quidditch Team walked onto the field, waving up at the spectators as they walked into position before, as one, throwing their Pokéballs into the air.

"And their Pokémon!" Bagman shouted as the crowd cheered even louder. "Volcarona! Serperior! Sceptile! Infernape! Greninja! Espeon! And Swellow!" The Pokémon looked fighting fit, jumping around and flexing their arms, legs, tails and wings as they prepared themselves for the game ahead.

"And now the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!" Bagman continued as the cheers started to wain. Five vulture like Pokémon took to the skies this time, crying out fiercely before perching themselves across the field from the three Irish mascots. The Mandibuzz glared across at the Togekiss with intimidating gazes.

"Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaaaand - Krum!" The applause was massive, the Bulgarian supporters even going so far as to stamp their feet as their team walked onto the pitch, not waving like their Irish counterparts but instead completely focused. At the end of the line the smallest member of the Bulgarian team slouched onto the field.

"That's him, Viktor Krum," Ron whispered, a note of awe in his voice. "He's one of the best seekers in the world but he's only eighteen. He's even younger than Percy!" Harry didn't doubt Krum's age, though he was certainly impressed. Despite his physical bulk there was something just obviously young about his features.

The Bulgarian players had taken their positions and released their Pokémon.

"And the Pokémon for the Bulgarian Team are: Weavile! Machamp! Haxorus! Pangoro! Rhyperior! Hydreigon! And Staraptor!" The crowd roared again and this time Bagman waited until they had calmed down.

"Our referee for today will be Hassan Mostafa from Egypt," he said in a much less enthusiastic tone. Mostafa, not bothered by his less than cheerful welcome, was talking to the teams on the pitch below, his words not carrying up into the stands as he placed the Quaffle squarely down on the centre point of the pitch. He gave one last word of warning to each of the teams, stepped back, and blew his whistle.

"And they're OFF!" Bagman cried as the Pokémon immediately sprung into action. The moment the whistle had blown each of the Beaters, Volcarona, Espeon, Rhyperior, and Hydreigon, had sent out an attack, leaving a huge explosion in the middle of the pitch where they collided. Dust obscured the action below before Greninja shot through, Quaffle in hand.

"Greninja! Infernape! Sceptile! Weavile! Pangoro! Sceptile! Pangoro!" Bagman only had time to speak the names of the Pokémon with the Quaffle before it had moved again, possession changing again and again as the Chasers appeared as nothing but blurs on the ground below. The Beaters, though how they were able to tell the players apart, were firing down nonstop attacks at the opposing Chasers, adding to the confusion as dust, smoke and dirt flew around the pitch. It was a sight to behold.

"Greninja! Machamp! Pangoro! Mach - Sceptile! Greninja! Infernape! Sceptile! Infernape! GOAL!" Bagman cried as Mullet's Infernape struck the Quaffle past Zograf's Haxorus to send the Irish fans into hysterics, and to put Ireland ten points ahead.

The game's intensity didn't let up. The six Chasers continued to move at full speed, not taking a moment to rest even after scoring, the Irish Chasers adding another two goals in the next ten minutes as they proved themselves faster and more agile than their Bulgarian counterparts.

But fatigue was setting in and that meant a field day for the Beaters. Sceptile was caught by a Dragon Pulse from Hydreigon and Greninja was forced to duck out of the way of a Rhyperior Stone Edge allowing Weavile to sneak through the Irish defence, face the keeper Serperior, and score.

The game continued in the same vein, remaining fast paced and brutal as the Pokémon left no stone unturned in their desire to beat their opponents. However, as was Harry's want when watching a Quidditch match, his eyes turned to the Seekers.

The match was quiet at this level, the two Seekers floating effortlessly before their trainers, Krum and Lynch staring unblinkingly across the field prepared for the sudden appearance of the Snitch.

It wasn't necessary to wait for the Snitch to appear before acting, Harry having been on the receiving end of attacks from Malfoy's Murkrow in his second year, but it was clear that neither Krum nor Lynch felt any need to waste energy before the final chase. They were both confident they could beat the other.

Down below things were a lot more dramatic.

It was clear that there was a significant difference in skill level between the two teams and, as energy faded, the Irish trio of Sceptile, Infernape and Greninja were showing their class. They'd already put on another ten goals against the sorry Haxorus in the Bulgaria goal and were easily stealing possession whenever the Bulgarian Chasers tried to attack, leaving Serperior mostly untroubled.

That's when Bulgaria started to play dirty.

"FOUL!" Bagman shouted as Infernape was upended by a move from Machamp. "That was a Low Kick from Machamp and it'll be a penalty for Ireland." Ireland scored.

"Why are they fouling so much?" Hermione wondered from beside Harry. It was a good point. The Irish Chasers were resilient, getting back up after every blow, and they were putting away the penalties with ease. The score was mounting and Harry looked back up at the Chasers.

"They're trying to stall for time," Harry realised suddenly, looking at Krum. It made sense. "They're never going to catch up with Ireland now. The only way they can win is they keep the score down long enough for the Snitch to appear and Krum can catch it."

It seemed that Harry's thinking was shared by many of the surrounding supporters as more and more faces were being turned skyward to where Swellow and Staraptor continued to stare off against each other. The Snitch was still to appear.

"Sceptile scores!" Bagman announced and Harry looked at the scoreboard. It was bad reading for Bulgaria, the one goal by Weavile earlier being their only mark on the score sheet, while Ireland had a score of one hundred and sixty. A one hundred and fifty point differential. If Krum caught the Snitch now he would win the match by virtue of Snitch Rules.

"Bulgaria keep possession. Machamp! Weavile! Pangoro! Wait a moment!" Bagman cried and all eyes turned upwards as Staraptor and Swellow sped off. The Snitch had appeared.

"Swellow with the advantage! Weavile loses possession! Strong Close Combat! Sceptile shoots! Saved! Staraptor catches Swellow!" Bagman didn't know whether to commentate on the action in the sky or the action down below as a thrilling battle took place. Swellow and Staraptor took to a game of cat and mouse in the sky, Staraptor hunting down his opponent who clutched the Snitch tightly in his beak. Meanwhile the Irish Chasers were doing everything they could to break through the Bulgarian resistance as they struggled to hold out for just a moment longer.

"Staraptor catches Swellow!" Bagman cried and the whole stadium gasped as Staraptor plucked the Snitch straight from Swellow's beak, smashing the opposing flying type with a powerful swipe of the wing before turning back home. As one the crowd rose to their feet.

"Staraptor's coming back! Ireland have the Quaffle! Sceptile! Infernape! Greninja!" Bagman's voice was going hoarse as he went absolutely crazy, turning his attention from the three Irish Chasers to Krum's Staraptor, swooping home for victory. "Sceptile! Greninja! Almost there! Infernape! Goal Ireland! And Krum's got the Snitch! UNBELIEVABLE!"

The Irish cheered. The Bulgarians groaned. And on the pitch the Irish National Quidditch Team embraced, screaming to the heavens in victory.

"Unbelievable!" Bagman repeated, slightly more under control than before. "Can you believe it? I don't think I've ever seen a final end like this one. Ireland win on a goal mere seconds before the capture of the Snitch. Hats off to Bulgaria, they fought hard, but Ireland are the new World Champions!"

The Irish players were still out on the pitch, celebrating wildly with their Pokémon, while their Bulgarian counterparts slumped despondently to the floor. Up in his balloon Viktor Krum looked heartbroken.

"And now, without further ado, we will move on to the awarding of the winners trophy which will take place in the top box!" Lights blinded Harry as the whole box was placed under the spotlight, every eye in the stadium turning towards it as the players were ushered off the pitch and up the stairs.

The Bulgarian players were the first to reach them. Looking utterly drained, with some even in tears, the seven Bulgarian Quidditch players received their runners up medals from Cornelius Fudge, each of the players being warmly embraced by the Bulgarian Minister as they passed. Krum didn't move his eyes off the floor.

The Irish players, by contrast, were bouncing. They wore huge beaming smiles as they received their winners medals from Fudge and words of congratulations from the Bulgarian Minister, waving and blowing kisses out to the crowd below who cheered them on. Eventually they lined up at the front of the box and Fudge, with the help of Mr Crouch, passed them the trophy to huge cheers.

"I present to you the 1994 World Champions!" Bagman's voice boomed as the Irish captain, Aidan Lynch, lifted the trophy into the air.


	3. The Staraptor Strike

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

They got back to their tents much later that night as they stayed behind, with most of the rest of the Ireland fans, to watch the Irish team celebrations on the pitch. It was an excitable evening, but an exhausting one and no one said much once they were back, instead splitting up into their respective tents with yawns of goodnight.

Harry was sharing a tent with Ron and they both quickly got themselves snuggled into their sleeping bags. But that wasn't going to stop them from talking about the match.

"Krum was amazing, wasn't he," Ron said, sitting up as much as the tent allowed and looking at Harry. "I mean, the way his Staraptor just knocked about Lynch's Swellow. He was too slow of course, but…"

Harry felt the need to step in. "That wasn't his fault," he argued. "It was the rest of the team that wasn't pulling their weight." Being a Seeker himself he understood the sometimes powerless feeling you could get while watching your teammates get battered. Not that that had happened many times with the Gryffindor Quidditch team but with Oliver Wood having graduated they may have more trouble retaining their title.

"Sorry," Ron said, correctly guessing the cause of Harry's indignation. "But we can agree, the Irish Chasers were good."

Harry's nod of response was interrupted as the sound of a far off explosion reached their ears, causing both of them to sit up and look at each other worriedly. They scrambled out of their tents, fortunately still mostly dressed, and looked at the scene outside.

Somewhere in the distance there was a large fire, much too large to be one of the campfires. Adding that with the screams that could be heard from that direction there was clearly something wrong.

"Harry. Ron. Why are you two out here?" Mr Weasley asked curiously, poking his head out from the tent he shared with Percy. Harry and Ron just stared off at the distant fire and so Mr Weasley pulled himself out and looked for himself. His face went pale. "Damn."

The rest of the group were rousing themselves from whatever sleep they had been able to get.

"What's happened?" Ginny asked, wiping sleep from her eye.

"Looks like someone's tent is on fire," commented George carelessly. He didn't seem to think it was that big a deal.

"Then why is everyone screaming?"

And that was when Harry saw them. At first they were only tiny pinpricks in the sky, only barely visible due to the light of the fire below, but as they moved closer they started taking shape.

Staraptor. At least a dozen of them flying in formation through the sky, their gaze sweeping the ground, looking for what, Harry didn't know. Beside Harry Mr Weasley let out a muffled curse.

"It's him."

Harry's eyes widened. "Voldemort?" he asked but Mr Weasley didn't even take the time to shudder at the name as he hurriedly pushed his youngest children behind him.

"Go," he ordered, his voice firm. "Get into the forest and stay hidden. Fred, George, you're in charge of Ginny."

"But dad," Fred complained, looking like he thought this was a complete overreaction. Harry thought otherwise.

The Pokémon were closer now, and Harry could see that the threat wasn't just limited to the skies. An army of Pokémon was making its way towards them, destroying whatever happened to be in their path with blasts of fire and water and swipes of darkly glowing claws. Most people around them were already in the process of fleeing towards the relative safety of the trees but there were some that appeared to be getting ready to fight, letting free their Pokémon to face the hoard, including, Harry was sure he could see, Amos Diggory with an enormous Hippowdon.

They were clearly under attack.

"Charmeleon!" Harry called, releasing his most powerful Pokémon to his side. Harry knew he didn't stand much of a chance against the overwhelming force coming towards them but it made him feel safer to have his trusted partner by his side. Charlie had already set off to join the gathering resistance, his Charizard appearing with a roar, and Bill was right there with him, revealing himself to have a Blaziken in his team.

"Go," Mr Weasley said one last time, physically pushing Fred towards his sister and away from the fray, turning to chase after Percy, who had headed after his eldest brothers with his Camerupt by his side.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny had no choice but to do as Mr Weasley said, not least because the swell of bodies heading for the forest was starting to drag them back almost against their will. Harry felt Hermione's hand grab hold of his, gripped onto Ron's shoulder, and felt Charmeleon's claws dig into his back as he clambered on.

There wasn't really much in the way of direction that the trio could work with as they moved towards the forest. The crowd was overwhelming and panicked and it was a hard enough task to keep hold of each other let alone try and find their own way. Fred, George and Ginny had long since disappeared from view.

Eventually they reached the edge of the forest and found themselves a small space behind a large elm tree where they could stop to catch their breaths.

"Man, that's some battle," Ron commented, trying and failing not to sound impressed. It seemed like the resistance had decided to make a stand where they'd last seen Mr Weasley and the eldest three Weasley brothers and so far they were holding. What worried Harry more were the Staraptor.

"What do you think they're doing?" Hermione asked the question Harry was thinking. Harry shrugged.

"It looks like they're searching for something, doesn't it," Ron replied, eyeing up one Staraptor as it got quite close to their resting place. Its eagle eyes did seem to be scanning through the crowd for something.

"Let's get into the trees," Harry said, not liking what was going on. Clearly the Staraptor were with this attacking force, who were, if Mr Weasley was to be believed, somehow linked with Voldemort. Why they weren't attacking was something Harry was sure they never wanted to find out.

They battled their way deeper into the forest, allowing the crowd to guide them until they'd gone deep enough that the fleeing sports fans seemed to have decided they were safe, huddling in small groups as they waited for word from the outside.

"We should try and find Fred and George," Ron said, looking around the clearing they'd found themselves in for the familiar red of Weasley hair. Unfortunately, despite the area being filled with people, there was no sign of any Weasleys.

"That's a good idea," Hermione agreed. "It'll be better if we're all together." And so they set off deeper into the woods, keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of Fred, George or Ginny, but without any luck. Eventually they got so far into the woods that they were alone.

"I guess we must have missed them," Hermione said, looking around the motionless clearing. "We should head back." They were brought to a halt, however, by a rustle in the nearby bushes and they were instantly on the alert. Harry was suddenly acutely aware of how vulnerable they were without anyone else around.

"Harry? Ron? Hermione?" It was Neville Longbottom, and he looked mightily relieved. "Thank goodness, I thought I was really lost." Harry, Ron and Hermione let out a breath.

"Neville, you scared the shit out of us," Ron said but he quickly went over to clap the boy on the shoulder. Neville Longbottom was in their year at Hogwarts and was also a Gryffindor, meaning he had slept in the same dormitory as Harry and Ron for the last three years.

"Gran sent me into the woods after the Death Eaters turned up," Neville said nervously. "I was hoping to bump into someone I knew but I didn't see anyone."

"Death Eaters?" Harry questioned. "Are you sure?" Neville nodded, his face pale.

"I remember Gran telling me stories when I was younger," he said, his voice small. "You-know-who always used to attack large gatherings like this. The attacks even had a name, the Staraptor Strikes."

"I'd read about those," Hermione said suddenly. "They used to attack at night when they couldn't be seen. Then they used their superior strength and speed to attack and take people hostage."

"But the Staraptor weren't attacking us," Ron pointed out. "They were just flying there. It was the Pokémon on the ground that were the problem." No one spoke in response to that. No one knew why the Staraptor weren't attacking.

"Maybe they're…" Harry began but a rustle in the trees brought him short and his fears were realised.

A Staraptor burst through the canopy of the trees, speeding through the air and, before Harry could react, grasped onto his arm with one strong taloned foot.

"Charmeleon!" Charmeleon cried, throwing himself bodily at the Pokémon that had dared to attack his trainer. His claws glowed with a metallic sheen as he attempted to drive them into Staraptor's exposed back, but he was forced instead to put his attack on hold, hanging on tight as the large flying type fought to shake him off. The two battling Pokémon hit a tree and Charmeleon gasped as the breath was knocked out of his lungs.

Staraptor rose back into the air, eyes focused back on Harry.

"Scizor, use Metal Claw!" A Scizor, a large, red armoured Pokémon, appeared in the space in front of Harry, driving a pair of glowing claws straight towards the onrushing Staraptor who had no chance to dodge. It recoiled sharply, using its powerful wings to put distance between itself and the new Pokémon before disappearing out of sight.

"Vot's going on here?!" a new voice entered the scene and as one the four teenagers turned to see who had spoken.

Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, stood in the shadows of the trees, his dark eyes darting between them with a calculating gaze. Everyone froze.

The rustle of leaves was all the warning Harry got as the Staraptor returned, diving towards him with outstretched talons, causing Harry to throw himself to the ground. "Charmeleon, Flamethrower!"

Charmeleon chased after it, a jet of flames bursting from his mouth, but the Staraptor twisted out of the way. Krum's frown became more pronounced.

"Staraptor, Close Combat," he said sharply, and from the Pokéball in his hand Bulgaria's prize Seeker appeared, bearing down on its fellow flying type with a merciless stare.

The unknown Staraptor stood no chance as Krum's swooped forward, lashing out with strikes of its wings and talons to beat its weaker opponent back. It fled into the darkness of the surrounding trees and all was still.

A minute passed with no movement. Harry very carefully raised himself from the ground. It appeared the Staraptor had left.

"Thank you," he said, turning to their saviour. Viktor Krum glanced over at him.

"It vas nothing," he said simply, waving away Harry's thanks. He pointed his Pokéball up at the remaining Staraptor and it disappeared in a flash of red light. Krum turned to leave.

"Wait!" Ron shouted after him. "Aren't you going to take your Scizor too?" Krum paused.

"That Scizor is not mine," he said shortly, only sparing a brief glance over his shoulder. Ron looked confused.

"It's Scyther," Neville said quietly. Everyone turned to him.

"Scyther evolved?" Hermione asked, being the first one to realise what he meant. Neville nodded.

"Blimey," was Ron's response. He looked a bit overwhelmed. "Eh, well…"

Ron was saved the trouble of saying anything as new people emerged into the clearing, one of them Harry was very glad to see.

"Ron," Mr Weasley said in relief as he saw them, hurrying the last few steps into the clearing. "Harry. Hermione. You're all alright."

"No thanks to that Staraptor," Ron said bullishly. It seemed he was starting to get over the shock of the attack. "Bloody nearly carried Harry away right in front of us."

"A Staraptor attacked?" a sharp voice questioned and a second man stepped forward. It was Mr Crouch.

"Eh, yeah," Ron said, a little taken aback by the concentrated stare of the older man. "We were just here and it swooped in and grabbed Harry. Charmeleon was able to get him but it just kept coming back. If it weren't for Krum we'd be goners."

"Krum?" Mr Crouch questioned. "Who's Krum?" Ron gave him a crazy look.

"Krum?" he repeated. "Viktor Krum. He's right here, he…" but Ron tailed off and looking around Harry could see why. Krum had vanished.

"I suppose he must have wanted to get back to his teammates," Mr Weasley said reasonably.

"That is if it was Krum," Mr Crouch responded.

"It was, Barty, I saw him myself when we arrived," Mr Weasley assured him. Harry wondered if he was telling the truth. "Anyway, what's important is that nobody was hurt. Whatever the plan was for tonight it obviously failed."

Mr Crouch nodded stiffly.

"I will alert the aurors as to what has happened," he said crisply. "I trust you can see these children back to the campsite?" He didn't wait for an answer before turning and briskly walking off into the darkness.

Mr Weasley let out a sigh.

"Are you sure you're all okay?" he asked worriedly.

"We're fine," Harry assured him. His arm still hurt from where Staraptor had grabbed hold of him but apart from some bruising he was otherwise unharmed.

"Mr Weasley, have you seen Fred, George and Ginny?" Hermione asked worriedly. "We tried to follow them but we got swept up in the crowd." Mr Weasley gave her a calming gesture.

"They're back at the camp, as are the others," he assured them. They each let out a breath they hadn't known they'd been holding. Mr Weasley turned to Neville.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met," he said politely. Neville jumped.

"Neville Longbottom, sir," he said hurriedly, almost seeming to bow his head in submission.

"Ah, of course," Mr Weasley said immediately. "You're here with your grandmother, I take it? Why don't you accompany us back to the campsite and I'll make sure you see it back safely." Neville looked incredibly relieved.

The journey back to the campsite was quiet. Most of the people who had occupied the forest had long since returned to their camps, the few people remaining all dressed in the uniform of law enforcement, a few of them giving Mr Weasley nods of recognition as they passed.

As they walked Neville explained the story behind his Scizor.

"Apparently Scyther can have evolution forced on them," Neville explained. "My Great Uncle Algie said that I could evolve Scyther straight away and he'd become stronger. I didn't want to force him but Uncle Algie insisted. He put him into this big red suit of armour and then put him through a trading machine and as soon as he came out his Pokéball again he just evolved."

They'd reached the campsite again, finding the rest of the Weasleys sitting round the remains of what had been the fire, though now the sun was starting to rise over the horizon once more, giving them light.

However the Weasleys were not alone. Cedric was there with them, along with his father Amos, who Mr Weasley quickly spoke to.

"No problems, Amos?" he asked. Mr Diggory shook his head.

"All quiet," he confirmed. "Seems like they've definitely done a runner. They must have known the aurors were just minutes away."

"Yes," Mr Weasley agreed, nodding as he looked worriedly over the horizon. Stretching for miles all that could be seen was the wreckage of tents and vehicles and Harry started to wonder just how many people would be forced to find an alternative way home.

Mr Weasley left soon after, accompanying Neville as he awkwardly tried to lead him in the vague direction of his camp, though even with a good sense of direction it would have been tough now that most of the camps looked much the same.

The sun was fully up by the time Mr Weasley returned and they said their goodbyes to the Diggorys and hit the road, thanking their lucky stars that neither Mr Weasley's minivan or his Ford Anglia had been in the least bit damaged.

The trip back was silent.

* * *

The week that followed was a tense one for the residents of the Burrow. The attack on the spectators at the Quidditch World Cup had put the entire Pokémon community on edge, and the Weasley family were no exception.

Mrs Weasley had practically broken down crying when she'd seen them pull up in the driveway the morning after the attack. She'd already heard word from the Pokémon newspaper, the Daily Prophet, which was predictably sparse in details, worrying the mother of seven tremendously until she could assure herself that her family were indeed safe.

For Harry things were even more complicated. He was, after all, at the centre of attention. Due to their report about the Staraptor that had attacked them, coupled with the history known about the Staraptor Strikes, it was clear to law enforcement, although thankfully not disseminated to the public at large, that the attack had been mostly a diversion for what was a kidnapping attempt on the last known person to see Voldemort alive.

An auror came round to visit the Burrow a couple of days after the attack to question Harry, Ron and Hermione. The auror, a tall dark skinned man by the name of Shacklebolt, with a surprisingly melodic voice, had asked them to recount their experience as accurately as possible, and, after pressing them for every detail they could remember, presented them with a number which they could call if they needed any support. Harry supposed it was a good policy in general, but he'd been through a lot worse in the past.

Soon enough it was time to head off to Hogwarts and the Weasley family, minus Percy, squashed themselves into the minivan, with Harry and Hermione with them, and headed down to Kings Cross station. The journey through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters proceeded like it always did - slightly late - and they were all preparing to board the train before Charlie pulled aside Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"I've got a favour to ask of you," he said, primarily to Ron but including Harry and Hermione as well. "I need to get this Trapinch to Hogwarts but I also need to head off back to Romania."

"I can do that," Ron shrugged unconcernedly. Charlie smiled.

"I knew I could count on you," he said, handing Ron the Pokéball. "Here, take this." He swung the large bag he'd been carrying with him, finally explaining the meaning of it, and shoved it into Ron's arms.

"At twelve noon exactly he'll need two of these pink blocks," Charlie explained, lifting the top of the bag to reveal an assortment of medication within. "Exactly fifteen minutes after that he'll need a shot of this. Make sure you inject in the neck and be careful of his jaws…"

"Eh," Ron said uncertainly, eyes wide as he listened to Charlie rattle off instructions. Charlie paused.

"It's all written down here," he said eventually, gesturing to a sheet of paper taped to the inside of the bag flap. "Just keep an eye on the time, alright. Trapinch may not look it but he's really not well and if he doesn't get what he needs when he needs it…" Charlie gave Ron a significant look.

"We'll look after him," Hermione told him confidently. "I'm sure between the three of us we'll be able to take care of him until we can get him to Madam Pomfrey."

"That's what I was hoping for," Charlie said with a grin.

A whistle blew.

"Hurry, hurry. You don't want the train to leave without you," Mrs Weasley told them, shooing them onto the train where they joined Fred, George and Ginny. They turned back to wave.

"It was good meeting you," Bill said as the train started to slowly pull away.

"Same here," Charlie agreed, directing this more to Hermione as he and Harry had met once before. "And who knows, maybe you'll all be seeing me sooner than you think."

"What?!"

Charlie just laughed and soon enough they were too far away to do anything but wave as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station and begun its long journey north to Hogwarts.

"What the hell did that mean?" Ron said incredulously. They were alone now, staring back along the tracks at a platform they could no longer see. Fred and George had already left and Ginny had muttered something about finding Luna. It was just the three of them.

"It was quite mysterious," Hermione agreed frowning. "I think he meant it to be."

"Just to screw with us, it'd be just like him," Ron muttered unkindly. "He was always like that. Always lorded things over you when he knew something you didn't."

"He isn't the only one," Harry cut in. "Remember Amos Diggory at the World Cup?" Ron and Hermione shared a look.

"I _remember_ him," Ron commented. "Did he… do something, or…" Ron just looked helplessly at Hermione.

"It was when we were talking about Quidditch," Harry said quickly. "Remember Cedric said we'd be able to play against each other this year and Mr Diggory said 'maybe'?"

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "I just thought he was being a dick," he offered. Hermione frowned at the language.

"So do you think it might be the same thing?" she suggested, focusing on Harry. "That Charlie and Mr Diggory were both alluding to something?"

"Unless Diggory was behind that whole Staraptor thing," Ron suggested. Harry thought that unlikely but Hermione had given him a lot to think about.

"Lets get a compartment," he suggested instead. They'd been standing by the door for a good ten minutes now and his legs were starting to ache.

"We'll be lucky," Ron countered. "There won't be any compartments left now."

"Lets go find Neville."

As it happened they found Dean and Seamus, Harry and Ron's other dorm mates, first, and quickly joined them, relieved to finally be off their feet, and started to relax. Unfortunately they had a job to do.

"Ouch!" Ron cried, withdrawing his hand sharply. "It bit me!"

"Well, what did you expect?" Hermione told him sternly, not in the least bit sympathetic as Ron nursed his throbbing hand. "Charlie warned you."

"Yeah, like a minute before dumping him on me," Ron complained. "Charlie had all summer to tell me about this but no, he waits until the last possible moment." Ron glared at Trapinch angrily, and Trapinch returned his gaze, his face completely clueless. Hermione sighed.

"Here, I'll do it," she said, taking the syringe from Ron's non-red hand. "I just need you to hold down his head."

"Oh, 'just'," Ron complained, looking mutinously down at the Trapinch in front of him.

Harry turned away as Ron, against his best wishes, moved forward to try and trap the small ground type Pokémon. His eyes flit across the compartment until they fell upon a newspaper, the Daily Prophet, lying folded on the seat. He opened it up.

"No New Information; Ministry Investigation Ongoing," Harry read the headline on the top of the front page. Underneath was a large picture of poor quality of the attack, the aggressive Pokémon only just visible in the light of the fire. The Staraptor were nowhere to be seen.

"It's been sayin' that all week," Seamus told him, turning away from his card game with Dean. "Me mam's been having it delivered. No one knows anything."

"Dad said the attackers fled when they realised help was coming," Ron interjected. He'd finally been able to grab hold of Trapinch's head, allowing Hermione to stick the syringe into his neck without resistance. "Are we done now?"

"Just for a few minutes," Hermione responded leaning back as she replaced the used syringe in Charlie's medicine bag. "He's got a few more of those blocks to eat at one."

Ron looked disgruntled. "When I imagined going back to Hogwarts again I didn't picture this," he said grumpily. Hermione huffed.

"Fine," she said simply, pulling Charlie's bag towards her and away from Ron. "I'll look after Trapinch, seeing as I'm the only one responsible enough for Charlie to trust." Ron seemed more relieved than insulted, irritating Hermione further as she picked up Trapinch and plonked him in her lap. Trapinch looked quite content.

"Were you at the match?" Harry asked interestedly. From the sounds of it most people were, Harry, Ron and Hermione had met Cedric Diggory and Neville Longbottom whilst there and Harry was sure he recognised several other Hogwarts students in the crowd.

Dean grinned. "Of course, wouldn't miss it for anything would we," he said. "Saw you there too. How'd you score top box seats?"

"Dad's friends with Bagman," Ron said casually, leaning back in his seat with ease now that he had managed to offload his responsibilities. Hermione huffed.

"Mr Weasley helped Bagman's brother out with something," Harry explained, causing Ron to look a bit put out but seeming to mollify Hermione slightly. "Anyway, how good were the Irish Chasers?"


	4. The Tri-Pokémon Tournament

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The conversation about the final of the Quidditch World Cup lasted the four boys all the way to Hogsmeade and by that time it had started to rain. Heavily.

The five soon to be fourth years jumped down onto the platform of Hogsmeade Station with a splash, wrapped up as tight as they could in their most waterproof clothes as they bowed their head against the ferocious rain whipping into their faces.

"Alrigh' Harry!" Hagrid boomed as they walked by him. He looked even taller than he usually did owing to the fact that everyone around him had their heads bowed against the rain while Hagrid stood straight, seemingly unaffected by the weather. Norbert, Hagrid's Shelgon, stood similarly resolute by his side.

"A suppose tha's the Trapinch from Charlie, right Hermione?" Hagrid asked, squinting through the darkness to where Trapinch lay snuggled into Hermione's chest as she tried to protect him from the rain. "Best ter get 'im up ter the castle. He's not in the right state ter be dealin' with this weather."

In their brief stop with Hagrid Harry, Ron and Hermione had lost Dean and Seamus and so they scrambled into a carriage alone, bundling inside in relief as they got away from the torrential downpour.

"Whew, imagine being a first year today," Ron said, staring outside at the rain. "Those kids are gonna get soaked." The conditions were absolutely miserable, the rain coming down in sheets so much so that they didn't see the figure running towards them until he had reached the door.

"Sorry," the figure mumbled as he burst in without waiting for an invitation, tracking in puddles of water with him.

"Neville," Ron replied, slightly amused, causing Neville to look up.

"Hey," he brightened up immediately. Clearly he'd been under the impression he'd been intruding on a complete stranger's carriage. Harry didn't blame him.

Neville moved to stand up, perhaps looking to remove his coat now he was inside, but at that moment the carriage jerked into motion and Neville lost his balance, and would have fallen right through the carriage door if Ron hadn't caught him.

"Thanks," Neville said gratefully, sitting down to avoid any further accidents. "I can't believe how lucky I was to find you."

"Me neither," Hermione said. "That's twice now you've run into us by accident." Neville jumped slightly. The incident must still be haunting the boy.

"How have you been, Neville?" Harry asked, trying to move to nicer topics.

"Busy," Neville replied with a shaky laugh. "It's all because of this whole Death Eater, Staraptor Strike, thing."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Uncle Algie went absolutely nuts. I mean, worse than normal," Neville explained. "He seemed to think the Death Eaters were after me for some reason and went on a whole self defence thing. It was like being in the army or something."

"He forced you to train?" Harry surmised. Neville nodded.

"Every day," Neville confirmed. "I'd have to wake up at seven and train, and then after lunch I'd train, and then after dinner I'd train again. I'm exhausted, I'm so glad to be back." Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a look.

"That sounds rough, mate," Ron said compassionately. Neville nodded, before letting out a long relieved sigh.

"It did have one good thing about it," Neville said suddenly. Hogwarts was in view now, meaning that they were almost at a stop and could see their fellow students making a run for the front doors. "Oshawott trained so much he evolved."

"Congratulations," Harry told him.

"Not only that, Gran got me a new Pokémon," Neville said excitedly. "It's only a baby, just hatched. I'll show you." Neville moved to open a Pokéball but Hermione stopped him short.

"Lets wait until we're inside," she advised and Neville nodded, replacing the Pokéball.

They made the journey to the castle in a run, forced to wrap themselves up against the gale force winds and pounding rain. The distance to the great oak front doors was mercifully short but even so the four of them were back to being absolutely soaking wet as they stepped into the Entrance Hall.

"Blimey," Ron said, shaking his head like a dog and scattering water droplets across the already waterlogged floor.

Harry was inclined to agree, and intended to voice said agreement, before he was interrupted by a very familiar call.

"Fletchinder!"

It had been months since Harry had last heard that cry but he was never going to forget it and he quickly turned to see the Pokémon it came from, his Quidditch partner Fletchinder, soaring through the air of the Entrance Hall to land, with the practiced ease of familiarity, on Harry's arm.

"Fletchinder! You flew!" Harry said excitedly. Nearly one year ago, during conditions very much like these, Fletchinder had been struck by lightning during a Quidditch match and had suffered horrific injuries. When Harry had last seen him Fletchinder had only just been returning to the skies, and so Harry had decided to leave Fletchinder at Hogwarts where he could recover without being trapped in Privet Drive.

"Yes, he did," spoke up another voice, that of Madam Pomfrey, Fletchinder's carer for the course of his summer rehab. "He's made a lot of progress over the summer. A truly remarkable recovery." Harry beamed at Fletchinder who looked very proud with himself.

Madam Pomfrey held out her hand. "His Pokéball," she said, indicating to the object she was holding out. "For some time now I have felt confident that Fletchinder can continue his rehab without my supervision. I have no qualms over handing him back to you."

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully, not just for the Pokéball she was handing back but for the care she had shown for his Pokémon over the course of the last year.

Madam Pomfrey nodded curtly before turning her attention to Hermione.

"This is the Trapinch from Charlie Weasley, I take it?" she asked. Hermione nodded. "Well he seems to be in decent health right this moment, I don't see why he can't be examined after dinner. Perhaps you should return him to his Pokéball."

"Good idea," agreed Hermione. Nothing happened. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Oh, right," Ron said, realising suddenly that everyone was waiting on him. He fumbled in his pocket before finding Trapinch's Pokéball and returning him inside.

The Great Hall was full by the time they walked in and Harry, Ron and Hermione were forced to search for a seat all the way along the Gryffindor house table before they found one, sitting down in relief.

The Great Hall looked as splendid as ever. The four long house tables were packed with returning students and along the top sat the staff table, at which many familiar faces sat, such as Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Professor Snape, and of course Hagrid, who had just entered via a side door.

"Where's the new Pokémon Battling Professor?" Hermione asked as she too looked at the Hogwarts staff table. Looking over the teachers sitting there Harry also noticed that there were no new faces. There were two seats yet to be filled, one right next to the Headmaster, which Professor McGonagall would fill, and the other next to Professor Snape, reserved for the Battling Professor.

"Maybe Dumbledore couldn't find anyone for the job," Ron suggested as he too scanned the table. "I mean, that's how we ended up with Lockhart, remember?"

"I do wish Professor Lupin could have stayed."

"Hiya Harry!"

"Hello Colin," Harry replied automatically before even processing that the boy was there. Colin Creevey was in the year below Harry, Ron and Hermione and had taken to speaking to him at every available opportunity, treating him as some sort of idol.

"Guess what, Harry. Guess what," Colin said excitedly. "My brother's starting, my brother Dennis."

"Oh, good," Harry said, surprised. He hadn't even known Colin had a brother.

"Let's hope he's in Gryffindor," Colin said, his face glowing. "Keep your fingers crossed Harry."

"Eh, yeah," Harry agreed awkwardly but he was saved from saying any more as Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, stood up, and everybody else quietened down. Dumbledore pulled out a Pokéball and opened it and, as he had done every year previously, the Sorting Xatu appeared.

"Everyone, please give a warm hand for the Sorting Xatu," Dumbledore said to the whole hall and everyone began to clap respectfully. The Sorting Xatu bowed deeply to each of the four house tables before going still, staring unblinkingly ahead.

The whole hall fell silent.

Moments later the doors to the Great Hall opened loudly and Professor McGonagall, leading a line of tiny, sopping wet eleven year olds, strode towards the staff table. The students stayed silent as they made the journey, though Harry could practically feel Colin quivering in anticipation, until they had come to a stop before the Sorting Xatu. Professor McGonagall pulled out a register and, without fuss, started to read off the names.

Dennis Creevey was one of the first.

Dennis was a tiny boy, easily the smallest there, and looked even smaller by the fact that he was wearing Hagrid's coat, which, large for an ordinary man, positively enveloped the excited eleven year old. The Sorting Xatu stared down at Dennis for a brief moment, before turning to the Gryffindor table. Applause rang out.

The sorting went by quickly, quicker than usual making Harry think the Sorting Xatu was taking pity on the sodden students and hurrying things up, and soon the last name had been read out and the student sorted. Xatu disappeared back into his Pokéball and Dumbledore stood up, a broad smile on his face.

"Welcome," he said grandly. "I thank you all for braving these monstrous conditions to join us once again for another school year. There is much I must say before the night is done, but for now, let the feast begin." And so it did.

Harry hurriedly dug into his food, realising just how hungry he'd been having not had anything to eat since breakfast at the Burrow. Ron, too, was digging in and all around the hall was filling with the noise of chatter and laughter as everyone enjoyed Hogwarts wonderful meal.

"I fell in the lake," a voice squealed from down the table and Harry realised that it was the voice of Dennis Creevey, telling his brother a story with a look of pure fascination on his face. "I was trying to swim but then something in the water grabbed me and put me back in the boat."

"Woah, it must have been the Giant Tentacruel, Dennis," Colin said, equally as excited.

"Wow," Dennis agreed, enraptured. It seemed like everything about where he sat right now was incredible.

"Dennis, see that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? Know who he is, Dennis?" Harry turned away so as not to be caught eavesdropping and instead turned to Ron, who was scarfing his food down faster than it could be brought to him.

"Is there really a Giant Tentacruel in the lake?" he asked. It sounded like the sort of thing you'd tell children to scare them. Ron shrugged.

"Dunno," he said. "Fred and George say there is but they could just be having us on. I don't think anyone's ever seen it - Pig, not now." Ron's Pidgey, affectionately named Pig, had burst out of his Pokéball.

"Not again," Ron moaned as Pig's eyes widened, seeing the food before him, and he quickly started helping himself to Ron's meal. This behaviour was not unusual, and was the basis behind his somewhat insulting nickname.

"You really need to teach your Pokémon some manners," Hermione reprimanded, watching distastefully as Pig dug his beak into a tart.

"You don't think I've tried," Ron countered. "Well, I have. I don't get it, none of my other Pokémon do this."

Trying to help out Fletchinder hopped down from Harry's shoulder and started squawking at the tiny Pidgey, gaining its attention. Pig gave a look of wide eyed confusion before using it's small beak to pick up some beans and place them in front of Fletchinder. Fletchinder covered his head with his wing, exasperated.

They let the matter drop as the minutes passed, choosing instead to enjoy the delicious feast as their main course was soon replaced by pudding, which they dug into with great enthusiasm.

"I love Hogwarts," Ron said dreamily, holding up a spoonful of chocolate pudding and looking at it with the expression of a man in love. He never got to eat it.

At that moment a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, lighting up the hall and causing some people to jump. This was accompanied by the doors to the Great Hall bursting open and a man walking in.

The whole hall fell silent as all eyes turned to the intruder but he didn't seem to take any notice. He limped heavily between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, his every other step accompanied by a loud clunk as he did so, a small black Pokémon, a Murkrow, riding on his shoulder. He paid no attention to any of the students as he passed, though Murkrow did, his eyes fixed intently on the head of the staff table, with Harry suddenly realising as he passed that one of his eyes was very obviously made of glass. As lightning flashed his face was thrown into the light and those closest gasped as it revealed a scarred and mangled visage. Nobody spoke until he reached the head table.

The still unknown man spoke softly to the Headmaster, so softly that even the rumble of thunder was enough to drown him out, and Dumbledore nodded his head and reached out his hand to shake, the man pulling a similarly gnarled and scarred hand from his pocket in response.

"Perhaps this would be a good time to bring the feast to a close and move on to the many important announcements we have tonight," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing around the hall. "And I should start with our guest," he continued, gesturing to the man who had just entered who was now clunking his way round the staff table and to the seat left empty next to Snape.

"Please welcome Professor Moody, our new Pokémon Battling Professor," Dumbledore said cheerfully, bringing his hands together to clap. Very few followed suit though it didn't seem to bother Moody. He wasn't even paying attention. Instead he looked to Dumbledore and muttered something, something even those students closest could not here, to which Dumbledore nodded. Moody walked out the hall as suddenly as he'd arrived, exiting through a side door as the whole school watched.

"That leads me on nicely to my second big announcement of the evening," Dumbledore said, his voice raised slightly to re-attract the attention of the hall with Moody's exit. "It is my unfortunate duty to announce that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

This provoked a reaction.

"No way!" Fred and George complained, and they weren't the only ones. From each of the four house tables there were outraged students. Quidditch was one of those things almost universally loved at Hogwarts and Harry, like many others, had been looking forward to it immensely over the course of the summer.

"Unfortunate though this may be it is a necessity for us to go forth with a much grander event," Dumbledore continued. "It is with great pleasure, and pride, to announce that this year Hogwarts will play host to the Tri-Pokémon Tournament."

The hall erupted in whispers. Some, like Hermione, gasped, looks of recognition in their eyes. Others, like Ron, simply looked confused. Harry was in the second camp.

"The Tri-Pokémon Tournament is a competition between three of the oldest and most prestigious of Pokémon trainer schools; Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang," Dumbledore told them. "Traditionally it would be held every four years before an unfortunate accident caused the event to be put on hold, until now."

At this moment Professor Moody reentered the hall and with him stood an enormous Pokémon; a Conkeldurr. The Pokémon was carrying a large marble pillar in his arms, which he dropped down in front of Dumbledore, a magnificent trophy sitting upon it.

"From each school a champion will be chosen and they will compete for this, the Tri-Pokémon Cup, over the course of three challenging and dangerous tasks," Dumbledore continued. "Only the strongest can hope to succeed, but honour and glory await, plus a thousand galleons in prize money."

"The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive in just under two months from now," Dumbledore said, talking over the mutterings and whispers of the crowd at the mention of prize money. "And until then, goodnight."

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's it for this chapter. I'd just like to take a moment to address some of the reviews from the last chapter.

Firstly I want to say that Mega Evolution will play a part in this series. It may not be this year but it will be an important part of the story, especially when it gets to the point where the characters start to have multiple fully evolved Pokemon and also Pokemon that have the ability to Mega Evolve. I'm not going to say any more now but just know that will be part of the story going forward.

The second question is harder for me to address and that is about pairings. I don't really want to just tell you what the pairings are since that takes away somewhat from the reading experience if you already know if a relationship is going to succeed or not. There will obviously be pairings (after all, this is the book in the original series where that starts to come into play) and for the most part the pairings will be cannon but there will be differences, both in some of the pairings themselves but also in the way certain pairings come about. I also think I've got a few things that'll really surprise you. Either way I hope that, no matter what pairings you're rooting for, you give the story a chance, even if you are thoroughly against the pairings I ultimately decide to go with. I endeavour to write the relationships as well as I possibly can.

On that note it's time to say goodbye again. I hope to see you all in the next chapter.


	5. Mad-Eye Moody

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The night had come and gone and Harry and Ron, accompanied by most of the other fourth year Gryffindors, were sitting in the stuffy, incense filled room at the top of north tower. Their first Fortune Telling lesson was not much different from what they'd expected. They were starting the study of palmistry, or palm reading, and so were staring at the wrinkles on each others hands.

"Tell it to me straight, doc," Ron said with a straight face. "How much time have I got left?" Harry gave him a grave look.

"Less and less with each passing second," he replied mystically, unconsciously echoing Trelawney's mysterious tone. Ron snorted.

"How wise," he replied with a chuckle.

"It's not something a lot of people are blessed with," Harry countered. Ron flinched.

"Ouch, that hurt!"

Harry blinked. "Sorry," he said. "I was just joking." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Not that," he said, nodding towards where there hands were joined. "Your nails, don't you ever cut them?" Harry retracted his hands quickly, not amused as Ron sniggered.

"Settle down, everyone, settle down," Trelawney said mystically as she swept between the tables, causing Ron to roll his eyes behind her back. "It does not do to muddle the sight with frivolous trivialities. Not with such important occasions as the Tri-Pokémon Tournament coming up."

Predictably with the mention of the tournament everyone turned to pay more attention and Lavender Brown, sitting at a table with fellow Gryffindor Parvati Patil, raised her hand. Professor Trelawney nodded at her.

"Professor, do you know who the champions will be?" Lavender asked excitedly. "Do you know who the Hogwarts champion will be?" Trelawney let out a smile and nodded.

"Indeed, I have seen the identity of the champions, but I am honour bound not to speak until they are chosen," Trelawney said mysteriously, drawing more intrigue from Parvati and Lavender and more eye-rolling from everyone else.

"Can you give us some clues professor?" Parvati asked eagerly.

"For you my dear," Trelawney said. "Of course." Trelawney raised up a hand in the air, as though asking for silence, and she closed her eyes and frowned. "They will be tall," she said, the entire class listening to every word. "Dark, handsome. That is all I can tell you."

"I guess it's not us then," Ron joked as Trelawney moved on, swooping down to look over Neville's attempt to read Ernie McMillan's palm. "A pity, mind. I could do with a thousand galleons."

"Not that we'd have a chance," Harry pointed out. He didn't know how the champions would be chosen but he was sure that they were going to be picked from the older students. As Harry had learned from the Valentine's Day battling tournaments they were still a long way off from challenging them.

"Yeah, but what if we did," Ron said excitedly. "A thousand galleons." Evidently the money was the thing that appealed to Ron most.

"Tell you what, if you get chosen I'll give you a thousand galleons not to compete," Harry told him. Ron looked surprised.

"Deal," he said, shaking Harry's hand enthusiastically. "Now give me your palm, I want to see if you make it this year."

* * *

They met Hermione not long after class had finished, finding her outside her Ancient Runes classroom, unsurprisingly talking to the professor, and so they had to wait patiently until whatever project she was talking about was sorted. Finally they were able to move.

"Blimey, you can talk," Ron commented as they started walking, glancing back at the door to the Ancient Runes classroom.

"We already knew that," Harry pointed out with a grin, causing Hermione to huff.

"I just wanted to clear up something with Professor Babbling," she explained. "A large part of our examinations this year will be coursework and so I wanted to make sure I was ready from the very start."

"Like there's even a chance you won't get top marks," Ron snorted. "Hey, where are you going?" After reaching the bottom of the stairs Ron had turned left, down towards the Great Hall and lunch. Hermione and Harry had turned right.

"The Hospital Wing," Hermione said, as though it were obvious. "We've got to get Trapinch checked over, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron said unenthusiastically. The idea of skipping lunch wasn't one he much enjoyed.

"We'll probably be able to grab something afterwards," Harry consoled him as they made their way right to the Hospital Wing. "And we have Stats too. Flitwick won't mind if we're a little late."

Hermione didn't seem to appreciate that though and so sped ahead, meaning she reached the Hospital Wing a good minute before Harry and Ron did and already had Trapinch out to be inspected by the time they arrived.

"I don't think we should be skipping classes," she said shortly as they reached her, and left it at that. It was probably for the best that this didn't drag on. Ron and Hermione had two very different philosophies when it came to school work, and they both found the other's quite abhorrent.

Instead Harry decided to tell Hermione about Trelawney's class, in particular her prediction over who the Hogwarts champion would be. Hermione was distinctly unimpressed.

"What utter nonsense," she said waspishly. "Tall, dark and handsome. It's like she just picked it out of a trashy romance novel. Plus with a description like that almost anyone could match the description, at least in some way."

"Not Eloise Midgen," Ron interjected helpfully. Eloise Midgen was surprisingly well known throughout the school, mostly because she was short, fat, and had the most terrible acne anyone had every seen. Hermione ignored his comment.

"I wonder who will be the Hogwarts champion though," she said. "I mean, there are a few obvious choices."

"Cedric," Harry said, reading her mind. Cedric at least fit the tall and handsome part of Trelawney's prediction and from what Harry knew he was a Grade A student who was liked by all. There was even talk of him being Head Boy next year, a position formerly held by the likes of Percy Weasley.

"I was also thinking Angelina," Hermione added. "I've never seen her battle but she's very good at Quidditch."

"She's very competitive," Harry said. It was true. In the three years Harry had been on the Quidditch team Angelina Johnson's competitive streak was only outstripped by former captain and keeper Oliver Wood's insatiable desire to win. Had the Quidditch Cup run this year Harry was sure Angelina would have been made captain.

"I can't really think of anyone else that stands out," Hermione admitted. "I have heard some rumours about Marcus Flint."

"Flint?!" Marcus Flint was captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team and Wood's long time rival. He had been due to graduate from Hogwarts last year but a simple glance across at the Slytherin table at breakfast told them that he was, for some reason, repeating his final year.

"I heard the rumour from Anthony Goldstein in Ancient Runes," Hermione said. "He thought Flint had the best chance since he is older than all the other candidates."

"Dumb as bricks though," Ron interjected.

"That's what I said," Hermione defended. "Though not quite in that way," she amended. "But I told Anthony there was no way Flint was smart enough to complete the Tri-Pokémon Tournament. It's not just about strength you know. Historically the tasks have tested the champion's skill and courage, not to mention their brains. I think it much more likely that Cedric or Angelina will be chosen."

"I hope it's Angelina," Ron said. "It would be embarrassing to have a Hufflepuff champion."

"Is there anything wrong with Hufflepuff, Mr Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey had finished her examination of Trapinch and was gazing down at the boy with a sharp glare. Ron gulped.

"Eh, no," he said hopefully, looking almost pleadingly to Harry and Hermione. Hermione didn't seem inclined to help, seemingly thinking that Ron had brought this on himself. Harry decided to bail him out.

"How is Trapinch?" Harry asked. Madam Pomfrey took a second longer to glare at Ron before turning to Harry.

"About as well as the reports from the reserve indicated," she answered simply. "He'll need care for a long time in order to get his immune system capable of dealing with the various bugs and bacteria in the forest. Until that point we must continue with his treatment."

"So he'll be alright?" Ron asked. Despite his annoyance at being saddled with the responsibility of caring for the feisty ground type Ron did care for its wellbeing.

"Provided he receives his medication regularly and on time," Madam Pomfrey told him. "I take it he's had his morning shot?"

"Yes, I gave it to him at eight, just like Charlie's instructions said," Hermione confirmed.

"In that case we'll be able to give him his blocks in a few minutes and then his next injection soon after," Madam Pomfrey said. "But truthfully there is no reason for him to be confined to the Hospital Wing. He is more than capable of moving around within reason, so long as he is being treated. Perhaps, if you don't mind Ms Granger, you can take responsibility for Trapinch's primary care."

"Me?" Hermione looked shocked. Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"You. You have taken excellent care of Trapinch in the last twenty-four hours and I'm sure a girl with your organisational ability will be more than capable of keeping up with Trapinch's schedule, if you are willing to take on the burden."

"Yes, of course, but," Hermione stammered. "You trust me?" Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"Don't worry, Hermione, you'll be fine," Ron assured her as they walked from the Hospital Wing, Trapinch carried in her arms.

"But what if it's too much on top of my schoolwork?" Hermione questioned, though she had already agreed, rendering the point moot.

"We'll help," Harry assured her. "We can always look after him if you need a break."

Hermione looked at him gratefully before quickly having to jump aside as Colin Creevey barrelled round the corner, running at high speeds.

"Going to be late, first Battling class," Colin shouted back at them as he ran, turning the next corner and out of sight.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't have Pokémon Battling until Thursday, and by then the anticipation had grown immensely. As well as Ginny and Colin, Fred, George, and their friend, Lee Jordan, had also had a class with Moody and they had loved it, though they remained tight lipped on what exactly Moody's class was like.

Therefore Harry, Ron and Hermione made sure to get there in plenty of time for their lesson on Thursday morning, as did the rest of the class. They waited in quiet anticipation as the clock counted down until the bell rang.

Moody's arrival was preceded by the loud clunk of his wooden leg as he limped towards the front of the class, not even bothering to acknowledge them as he walked towards an old fashioned blackboard, scribbling on it in chalk. He put the chalk down with a snap.

"So," he said, glaring out at the class before him who stared silently back. "Fourth years." He limped over to stand in front of his desk and continued to stare at them. Several of the students shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm Moody," Professor Moody announced suddenly. "This is Murk." He jabbed his thumb at the Murkrow on his shoulder. "And we'll be teaching you Pokémon Battling this year."

"First, the rules," Moody continued, raising a gnarled hand and lifting a single digit. "First rule: if you are late then don't bother coming at all. I have no time for people who can't be bothered getting here on time. If you can't be bothered with learning to defend yourself than I'm not bothered teaching you." He lifted a second finger.

"Second; no funny business in my class," Moody said, his voice threatening. "I may only have one eye but with Murk I see everything. Don't think I won't catch you and shove you in detention for the rest of the year."

"Third," he raised a third finger. "No Pokémon unless I tell you to bring them," he told them. "Other teachers might let it slide, well good for them. But in my class you do as I say or you get out, and that goes for your Pokémon too. Got it." Neville, a young Larvitar cradled in his arms, quickly returned the Pokemon with an anxious expression. Others in the class mirrored his response and eventually no Pokemon were present, apart from Murk sat on Moody's shoulder.

Seemingly satisfied that he'd appropriately scared them Moody limped back round his desk, picking up the chalk again and going back to scribbling on the blackboard, wiping roughly away his name with the sleeve of his jacket. Many of the students shifted in their seats as they tried to see what he was writing but quailed under Murkrow's stare. He had not let his eyes off the class for even a moment.

At last Moody had finished writing and turned back to the class.

"First thing to teach any aspiring Pokémon trainer," he said, before slamming the chalk into the blackboard. "The Unforgivables. Who can tell me what an Unforgivable is?"

No one replied. Perhaps it was simply because Moody frightened them so much or perhaps everyone was thinking the same as Harry. He'd never heard of the Unforgivables before.

Moody did not look impressed.

"The Unforgiveables are the cornerstone of Pokémon Battling," Moody lectured, sounding somewhat angry that they didn't know this. "It divides Pokémon attacks into three groups, three groups that no Pokémon trainer should ever forget. That's why they are called the Unforgiveables, because it is unforgivable for any trainer to forget them." He glared out over the students, perhaps hoping that his explanation would have sparked some recognition, but he got none.

"The first group," Moody continued, scribbling roughly on the board. "The 'Never Miss' group. These are attacks that have no way of easily dodging them. Often they don't have much of a visible presence. They do not appear in balls and spheres and blast." Moody looked around the class.

"Can anyone give me an example?" he asked. He did not sound hopeful.

Tentatively Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes," Moody said, pointing a gnarled finger at her.

"Eh, Psychic," Hermione suggested, speaking not at all in the usual confident way she usually did when answering a teacher's question.

Moody nodded approvingly.

"Good girl," he said, focusing his eye unnervingly on her. "What's your name?"

"Eh, Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger," Moody repeated. "Good. Ten points to Gryffindor." He shuffled back to the blackboard and scribbled the word 'Psychic' beneath the title 'Never Miss'.

"Other moves that fall into this category are moves like Faint Attack, Aerial Ace, and Aura Sphere," Moody said, scribbling these down as well. "Also included in this group are moves like Dream Eater. Dream Eater only works when the opponent is asleep. Therefore they can't dodge." He finished writing with an authoritative rap on the black board.

"Now, the second category," Moody continued, wiping off everything he had just written on the board before anyone could copy it down and starting again. "Status attacks. Attacks that either restrict a Pokémon's movement or health through non direct attacks. Blondie."

He pointed suddenly at Draco Malfoy, turning so quickly to the class at large that everyone jumped in surprise. Malfoy himself recovered quickly and let his features fold into their usual look of superior confidence as he answered.

"Attacks like Thunder Wave or Toxic would fall in this category I believe," he answered smoothly. Moody grunted.

"I wasn't asking you a question," Moody glowered. "I was warning you to quit yapping with those boyfriends of yours and shut up." Malfoy's pale cheeks went pink.

"But as for your answers they are correct," Moody conceded, returning to his board. "Other moves include Hypnosis and Stun Spore. Also included are completely indirect attacks like Toxic Spikes or the use of special abilities, like Static."

Again Moody reached the end of his scribbling then immediately wiped the board clean, not giving anyone any time to actually read what he'd written.

"Lastly," he said, scrawling another header on the blackboard. "We have the 'One Hit KO's'. Who can tell me what that means. How about you, Longbottom, isn't it?"

Neville looked shocked at having been picked out, staring up at Moody's expectant gaze and stammering as he answered.

"Eh, moves that knock you out with one hit?" Neville said uncertainly. Moody nodded encouragingly.

"Good, five points to Gryffindor," he said. As he said this his voice almost sounded kind.

"There are only a small number of moves that fit into this category," Moody continued, his voice reverting immediately. "Sheer Cold, Horn Drill, Guillotine. They are generally easy to recognise and relatively easy to dodge too. Just don't get hit by them."

The bell rang.

"Homework," Moody said, causing everyone to groan despite the overall fear for which they had for him. "An essay on the definitions of the three Unforgivable groups and an in detail report of one of your Pokémon's move sets separating moves into each of the three categories. Class dismissed."

"Homework," Ron complained, though under his breath so that Moody wouldn't be able to hear over the scrapes of chairs and the ruffle of bags being packed.

"At least it's interesting," Harry responded. Indeed, Harry felt as though he had learned more in this class than he had in his entire Pokémon Battling experience, with the exception of Professor Lupin's class.

"Mr Longbottom. If you could stay here for a minute," Moody's voice surprised Harry, and Neville too at that. The poor boy looked absolutely terrified as Moody stood over his desk and the rest of the class filed out. Harry felt sorry for him.


	6. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Fortunately, nothing too bad seemed to happen to Neville whilst alone in Professor Moody's company as he joined them just ten minutes later at lunch, looking no more the worse for wear. On the other hand he was especially quiet, tending to the baby Larvitar silently, and Harry wondered what Moody could have done that would have caused such a thoughtful reaction from the young boy.

Future lessons only extended the mystery as it appeared that Professor Moody held some unusual affections for the often clumsy and forgetful boy. He did not use the same harsh voice as he did with everyone else when talking to Neville and Harry couldn't help but notice that Neville was often asked fairly easy questions and was rewarded with points more often than most.

Despite this weirdness the Pokémon Battling lessons remained interesting. Moody had only scratched the surface with that first lesson and from that point on had dedicated entire lessons to each of the three categories, going into incredible detail that impressed even Hermione.

Unfortunately the level of homework from Moody also remained the same and soon it was added to by many of their other professors. Why they were being given such a demanding workload, with their A.P.E.s, Average Pokémon Examinations, not until the end of fifth year, was anyone's guess.

In fact, with the added workload and the general excitement that accompanied Professor Moody's classes, the Tri-Pokémon Tournament had found its way out of the limelight. This all changed one morning in late October when a notice was stuck up in the Gryffindor Common Room.

 _Tri-Pokémon Tournament_

 _The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early._

 _Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast._

"About time," Ron complained. "I thought they'd forgotten."

Indeed the notice revitalised the excitement that had tapered off since the start of term feast and for the week that passed between the day of the notice and the 30th all anyone could talk about were the arrivals from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.

On Friday, their last lesson having finished early (mercifully in the case of the fourth year's potions class), the fourth year Gryffindors hurried up to their common room to drop their bags and books and congregated back down on the castle lawn.

They waited.

"It's past six," Harry noted, glancing at his watch. Many other students were doing the same and more than a few professors had to give off sharp retorts to keep them quiet.

"I suppose they're running late," Hermione reasoned. "They are coming from quite a long way away. Beauxbatons is in France and Durmstrang is even further, somewhere in Eastern Europe."

Knowing this didn't really help much as the student body started to grow restless. There was a sharp chill in the air and it was already dark, winter not far off in the future.

Ron stamped his feet.

"This is bullshit," he muttered, only just managing to keep his voice down to avoid the wrath of Professor McGonagall. "We've been out here for ages. I'm hungry."

As he said this a sudden rustle of movement spread through the crowd, whispers sounding as the students closest to the front looked to the sky. Harry did too.

There was a dark shape moving towards them. It was too far away to be distinct, and with no moon to speak of it was shrouded in complete darkness, yet it was enough to make Harry wonder what sort of transportation the foreign students could be using to fly.

The object was moving closer, definitely making a beeline for the castle, and by now everyone had noticed. The noise level rose as people started muttering to their friends, wondering what this mysterious object was, before it finally flew into the light emanating from the castle.

And with it came an incredible sight.

A carriage flew through the air, ornately decorated, the effect somewhat lost in the near pitch darkness, but what was most impressive was what the carriage was connected to. Four Salamence flew in unison, each strapped to a harness and supporting the enormous carriage between them.

The Salamence did a small circle in the air before coming down for landing, hitting the ground with a surprisingly gentle thump before standing still, waiting patiently for their mount to disembark.

After a brief moment the door to the carriage opened and a small figure jumped out. A second later a small set of silver steps unfolded from the door to the ground and the figure quickly stepped to the side, standing straight as the person within disembarked.

The person to exit from the ornate carriage was massive. Even from a distance she could be seen to tower over the figure who'd opened the door for her and, as she walked up the lawn to where Professor Dumbledore stood at the head of the welcoming committee, she covered the ground easily with a few long, elegant steps.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore greeted, beaming up at the much taller woman as she reached him, leaning forward slightly to plant a soft kiss on her hand. "Always a delight to have you, my dear Madame Maxime."

"Dumbly-dorr, so great to see you looking so well." Madame Maxime had a deep voice, and a heavily accented one, leaving no one in any doubt that she hailed from France and that her students, now lined up patiently behind her, were from Beauxbatons.

"I 'ope we're not too late," Madame Maxime continued. "I trust Karkaroff 'as already arrived?"

"Unfortunately the Durmstrang delegation seem a bit delayed," Dumbledore said in good humour. "When they will arrive is a bit of a mystery."

Madame Maxime let out a delicate, tinkling laugh. "Well, I should not judge," she replied, gracefully indicating back to where her magnificent carriage was parked. "But if it would be alright I would like my pupils in ze warmth."

As Madame Maxime said the Beauxbatons students looked freezing. They appeared to be dressed in uniforms made of fine silk and there was not a jacket or jumper in sight. Clearly they had not anticipated Scotland's unfavourable climate.

"Of course, please come in," Dumbledore said cheerfully, gesturing up to the great open front doors of the castle, a thoroughfare having been organised in the crowd of students to allow them access. As they passed Harry noticed that they were in general a decent bit taller than himself, leading him to believe that Madame Maxime had limited the number of students she brought to only the upper years.

"Ze Salamence," Maxime said, gesturing back to the Pokémon that still stood calmly in their harnesses. "Zey need cared for."

"Our Care of Pokémon Professor would be delighted to look after them," Professor Dumbledore assured her.

"'Zey are very strong," Madame Maxime insisted. "Zey require - er - forceful 'andling."

"I assure you Professor Hagrid is more than up for the job," Dumbledore told her. "Rubeus, why don't you get a start on settling these fine Pokémon in for the night?"

"Righ' away, sir," Hagrid said confidently, stepping forward from the crowd. Madame Maxime seemed surprised by his presence, though pleasantly so, looking him up and down with contemplative eyes. Clearly Hagrid's sizeable bulk was something Madame Maxime approved of.

"Very well, 'Agrid," she said, turning her attention to the larger of the two men, though even Hagrid was dwarfed by the giant head of Beauxbatons. "Ze Salamence 'ave a strict diet to follow, and get ze reward of a zingle poffin for ze travels. You do know how to make poffins?"

"Give me the recipe an' I'll whip up a batch righ' now," Hagrid said confidently. Madame Maxime nodded in approval.

"Very well, I will join my students up in ze castle." Madame Maxime strode towards the castle doors, dissecting the students who all gazed up in astonishment as they got an up close view of her incredible height. Harry felt his neck twitch.

"Blimey was she tall," Ron said once Madame Maxime was safely out of earshot. "I hope the Durmstrang lot aren't any taller."

"I don't think that's possible," Harry replied, looking out across the grounds. Hagrid had already got to work on the Salamence, displaying his extraordinary knack for dealing with large and dangerous Pokémon as he soothing eased them from their harness and petted them lovingly. Harry imagined this was a dream come true for Hagrid.

And still the Durmstrang delegation hadn't arrived.

"How long do we stand out here waiting for them?" Ron complained. "Do you reckon this is a tactic? Give whoever's Hogwarts Champion hypothermia."

Harry didn't comment on Ron's grumpiness but he noticed that the teachers appeared to be having very similar discussions. It was approaching an hour now since the Durmstrang students were supposed to arrive. Had they forgotten about time difference?

"There!" The shout came from Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' friend and Quidditch commentator, and he pointed out, not across the grounds from where the Beauxbatons delegation arrived, but out onto the lake.

A large ship, reminding Harry of that used by pirates in old films he'd seen at the Dursleys', was making its way at pace across the water, despite the lack of wind to blow its sails. The reason for its quick movements were explained, however, as the ship drew nearer to the castle and it was revealed that long ropes hooked onto the front of the boat and stretched taught across the water. The Pokémon tugging the ship were mostly hidden beneath the soft ripples of the lake but, based on the jagged fins sticking out of the water, Harry guessed they were Sharpedo.

A large anchor was tossed overboard and the Sharpedo drew to a stop, swarming back to the ship and disappearing below the hull. A gangway fell, splitting the distance from boat to shore, and figures strode forth, single file.

The lead figure strode on ahead and greeted them with a beaming smile.

"Dumbledore!" The man said enthusiastically, taking the older man's hand and shaking it vigorously. "How good to see you, how good."

"You too, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied politely. Fortunately Karkaroff, though of similar build as Dumbledore, was nowhere near as tall as Madame Maxime. If he had been Dumbledore could have suffered major injury from the enthusiasm with which he was greeted.

"Sorry to be so late," Karkaroff said with exaggerated sincerity, making it seem like he wasn't sorry in the slightest. "We were unfortunately delayed by a lack of wind, we had to make use of our Sharpedo to make it here."

"No harm done," Dumbledore said amicably. "Madame Maxime and her students are warming up in the Entrance Hall, perhaps we should join them?"

"Ah, yes, first I'd like to introduce you to someone," Karkaroff said, gesturing for a figure behind him to step forward. He looked much like the rest of the students, dressed much the same and of similar height and build. However as he came into the light it was revealed he was obviously a fair bit older, likely around about thirty years of age.

"This is my Battling Professor, Dmitry Stefanov," Karkaroff introduced. "He has accompanied us for this journey, if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all," Dumbledore said, turning to the stoic professor. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Stefanov."

"Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore," Stefanov said, his voice clipped and rough, suggesting his English was not as fluent as Karkaroff's. He gave a short, sharp, nod of his head in respect to Dumbledore, before turning and gathering up the students.

"They obviously came prepared," Harry muttered as he eyed the Durmstrang students. Unlike the Beauxbatons lot the Durmstrang students were wrapped up in thick coats and scarves and appeared perfectly comfortable with the evening October chill.

"They're obviously used to it," Hermione noted. "Nobody knows exactly where Durmstrang is but I believe it's at quite a high altitude."

"Would you guys knock it off," Ron grumbled, giving Harry and Hermione a sideways glare. "Seriously, stop with all this fashion and geography stuff. Have you not seen him?" Harry and Hermione blinked, confused, before turning to look at the Durmstrang delegation more closely. They gasped.

Leading the Durmstrang students up the lawn to the front doors, just a step behind Professor Stefanov, was a slouched figure that Harry recognised only too well.

Viktor Krum had come to Hogwarts.

* * *

The Great Hall was packed.

Usually, when the whole school were all there at the same time, the Great Hall was very busy, with spaces hard to come across if you got there late. Add in the arriving Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students and every seat in the hall was taken, and then some.

Harry, Ron and Hermione, seated together at the Gryffindor table, were thankful that this did not affect them too much. The Beauxbatons students, some still shivering despite the warmth of the castle, had seated themselves at the Ravenclaw table while the Durmstrang students, by contrast removing their thick outer jackets, were sitting with the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy looked particularly smug as Viktor Krum sat down a few seats away from him.

"Ah, much better," Ron moaned gratefully, stuffing his mouth with whatever was closest. The feast had begun immediately upon the students arriving, Dumbledore cognisant of the fact that the Hogwarts students were tired and cold and so leaving any big speeches off until after the meal.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been - Pig!" Ron was cut off by his Pidgey once again bursting from his Pokéball. He shook his head ruefully, hailing a passing Machoke to see the dish he was carrying. He wrinkled his nose at it.

"What's that?" he questioned, looking rather disgusted. The Machoke looked a bit bewildered. Was Ron really expecting an answer from him? Harry craned his neck to see into the bowl Machoke was holding. It was filled with some sort of stew, some shellfish visible on the surface.

"Bouillabaisse," Hermione answered, having looked into the bowl too. "It's a french dish. Dumbledore must have had some things added to the menu."

"It looks awful," Ron commented brazenly.

"It's actually very nice," Hermione informed him. "But if you're going to turn your nose up at it maybe you should try your luck with some Bulgarian dishes." She pointed down the table. A slab of meat rested on a plate in front of Neville, who looked a little tentative as he prodded it with his fork.

"I think I'll stick with British food," Ron decided wisely, spooning some roast potatoes onto his plate instead.

"Excuse me," a voice sounded and Harry turned to see the speaker. "Are you finished with ze bouillabaisse?"

It was one of the Beauxbatons students, a girl with long, beautiful blonde hair that flowed down to waist height. She was looking at Ron expectantly. Ron gaped.

"Yeah," Harry said quickly, realising Ron wasn't answering anytime soon. "Yes, we're… done, with it."

"Thank you," she said and she gestured to the Machoke to follow her, Machoke having to walk round the end of the Gryffindor table to deliver the dish to the girl and her fellow Beauxbatons students.

"Wow," Ron said, still staring after the girl even after she'd retaken her seat. "Wow."

Hermione tutted. "Honestly Ron, it's like you've never seen a pretty girl before," she said critically, frowning at his behaviour.

"She's not pretty," Ron told her, still staring. "She's beautiful." Hermione huffed.

Harry was silently on Ron's side, though he knew better than to say that, and was more than a little disappointed that the girl was sitting behind him so he couldn't see her without turning in his seat.

The upshot of not facing the Ravenclaw table, however, was that he had a perfect view of the Slytherin one, and in particular Viktor Krum. Throughout the meal Harry had been trying to catch Krum's eye but so far he'd been resolute in not looking his way, something Harry was starting to find more and more suspicious.

"You think he remembers?" Hermione asked, recognising where he was looking. Harry nodded.

"He's got to," he said. "You don't forget about nights like that easily."

"Maybe he just doesn't recognise us," Hermione suggested. "It was very dark." Ron snorted.

"Of course he recognises us," he told her. "Everyone recognises Harry. Plus it's been all over the news what had happened. Even if he didn't realise who Harry was then he'd definitely be looking for him now."

"Then why is he not?" Hermione asked. Ron didn't have an answer.

Harry didn't either and so to distract himself he looked up to the staff table. Like the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables the staff table was packed beyond what it could reasonably accommodate. Asides from Madame Maxime, who took up more space than most, and Karkaroff, who took spaces on either side of Dumbledore, there was also a seat for Professor Stefanov to Karkaroff's left. On Madame Maxime's right there were also two additional chairs Harry hadn't noticed before, Maxime's huge size throwing the occupants in shadow, and it was a shock for Harry to realise that he recognised the people sitting there.

"What are Crouch and Bagman doing here?" he asked, causing Hermione and Ron to look up.

"Bagman's here?" Ron asked, excited, his eyes doing a once over of the table as he tried to pick him out. "Blimey, when did they sneak him in?"

Hermione, however, was more pensive.

"I suppose they must be here for the Tri-Pokémon Tournament," she said thoughtfully. "Bagman's head of Games and Sports, so that makes sense, and Crouch is in charge of International Cooperation. I bet he must have had a huge part to play in organising all this."

That made sense, Harry thought as he turned his attention to the two, remarkably different, department heads. Bagman's round, childlike face was beaming, even from beneath Madame Maxime's immense shadow. Crouch, by contrast, looked ill, and he seemed to be doing his best to hide himself from view, leaning back straight in his chair while Bagman leaned forward, elbows resting by his plate.

Eventually dinner was finished and Professor Dumbledore stood up, looked around the hall, and beamed.

"Welcome," he said cheerfully, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the hall. It didn't have quite the same effect as usual; Madame Maxime was almost as tall sitting down as Dumbledore was standing up.

"Welcome to everyone, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, students, teachers, I am delighted to host you all here for a year of fun, laughter, and, with my dearest hopes, the making of friends," Dumbledore said. Most would sound insincere saying such a thing; with Dumbledore it seemed natural.

"I know you all do not wish to hear me waffle on for too long so I will quickly move on to what everyone here, I think, is waiting for: the Tri-Pokémon Tournament." A ripple of whispers spread across the hall as Dumbledore said this before dying down quickly. Everyone was listening with their full attention.

"The Tri-Pokémon Tournament has a wealth of history and tradition, until its suspension," Dumbledore told them. "While many, if not most, of the traditions have been kept on it has taken a great amount of time, effort and cooperation to allow this grand tournament a rebirth and as such I would like to introduce, to those who do not know them, Ludovic Bagman and Bartemius Crouch, Heads of the Department for Pokémon Games and Sports and International Cooperation respectively."

A warm applause greeted the two ministry employees as they rose from their seats. Bagman beamed widely, bowing to the clapping students, clearly very much at home in the spotlight. Mr Crouch returned to his seat at the first available opportunity. His expression did not change.

"During the Tri-Pokémon Tournament Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch, along with myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, will act as the judges for the three challenges the chosen champions will face. It is after these challenges have been conquered that a winner shall be decided and be rewarded with a thousand galleons prize money as well as glory and honour for themselves, and their schools, for evermore."

Whispers spread around the hall as Dumbledore said this and Harry imagined a lot of people were picturing themselves winning the Tri-Pokémon Tournament and being recognised for their skills. Harry did not much care for the money or the glory, but even he was tempted by the thought of having his abilities recognised across the Pokémon world.

Dumbledore let the whispers continue for awhile, a small smile on his face, before eventually the students fell silent again and looked, expectantly, up at the Hogwarts Headmaster.

"The choosing of the champions will take place tomorrow at the end of our annual Halloween Feast," Dumbledore announced to moans from the students. They'd all been looking forward to this tonight.

"In the meantime I advise you all to get some rest," Dumbledore told them. "Tomorrow is a big day, we must be at our best. In just under twenty-four hours the Tri-Pokémon Tournament will officially begin."


	7. The Choosing of Champions

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The next day was a Saturday, Halloween. Usually Saturdays were lazy days where students would sleep in late and lounge around the Common Room or, on good days, out on the castle grounds, unless their was a Quidditch match on.

This Saturday was different. No one felt like lounging around and there was no Quidditch to occupy them. Instead there was a strange buzz around the castle as students desperately tried to tide themselves over with activity to try and stave off the excitement for the Halloween Feast, and with that the choosing of the champions.

Hermione's response was homework. For the lack of anything better to do Harry and Ron joined her. They lasted all of twenty minutes.

"That's it, I give up," Ron said, throwing his pen down at his Physiology essay, having spent the last five minutes preparing to write something but never figuring out what. "This is ridiculous, I just can't concentrate."

Harry agreed. He'd been working on some Fortune Telling homework, correctly realising he wouldn't have the focus necessary for McGonagall's famously tough assignments. Yet even Trelawney's drivel, which Harry and Ron had long since given up on really trying at, required more concentration than Harry was capable of using. He put his pen down.

"Ron's right," he said in a softer tone. Arguing loudly wouldn't convince Hermione. "I can barely think about anything but tonight. Why don't we put this off until tomorrow?" Hermione pursed her lips.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron complained. "Do you really think McGonagall expects us to do all this before Monday?"

Truthfully Harry thought precisely that, McGonagall was a hard taskmistress. Nevertheless it seemed to convince Hermione as she gently placed her book down on the table and marked her page.

"Okay," she said, closing the book softly. "What do you suggest we do instead?" Harry frowned. Ron, too, looked scuppered.

"Let's go visit Hagrid," Harry finally suggested. "It's been ages."

Indeed it had. So far this year Harry, Ron and Hermione had yet to visit the gamekeeper in his small wooden cabin, being put off first by the terrible weather of the early term and then by the mountains of work their professors heaped on them.

Either way Hagrid was delighted to see them.

"Been awhile, hasn't it," he chortled as they crossed the threshold and Ron immediately found himself jumped on by Fang, the friendly Mightyena enthusiastically licking the young boy's face. "Sit down, sit down. I'll jus' go an' put the kettle on."

Harry and Hermione gratefully settled down next to Hagrid's enormous oak table, Ron eventually joining them as he fought his way out from under Fang, as Hagrid pottered around in the kitchen, preparing tea. They said nothing while he worked, enjoying the familiarity of Hagrid's hut, before Hagrid returned to the table.

"There yeh go," Hagrid beamed as he handed them their cups. "Pipin' hot. Straight from the kettle." Harry, Ron and Hermione each took a small sip. The tea really was hot.

"It's been a long time since I got ter talk ter yeh all," Hagrid said as they drank, taking a swig from a tankard which most definitely did not contain tea. "How've yeh bin?"

They told him. They told him about what had happened at the Quidditch World Cup, about what had happened since they'd got back to Hogwarts, and about how excited they all were for the choosing of the champions tonight. Hagrid chuckled.

"Yeh're in fer a treat," he told them. "They hosted a Tri-Pokémon Tournament at Hogwarts while I was 'ere. Absolutely incredible. Ain't seen nothin' like it." He took another big swig from his tankard. "An' how is Fletchinder doin'? I've been meanin' ter ask."

"Fletchinder's great, Hagrid," Harry told him. It was true, Fletchinder appeared to be completely back to normal, although he hadn't had anything particularly taxing to do to test him. Harry was still wary about using him in battle.

"An' I heard you've got yerself a new Pokémon too, right Hermione," Hagrid said, smiling at the girl.

"I'm just looking after him," Hermione assured him. "As soon as Trapinch is healthy enough he's going to join the other Trapinch in the forest." Despite Hermione's concern that she wouldn't be up for looking after the ailing Trapinch she had yet to ask for any help. She administered the medication on time and without fail and was getting quite attached to the small ground type.

Hagrid nodded. "Can I see 'im?" he asked hopefully. It was a well known fact that Hagrid loved dragon types and while Trapinch wasn't part dragon yet he would become one once he evolved.

"Come on out, Trapinch," Hermione said, releasing the Pokémon onto the table. Trapinch blinked as he appeared, taking in the new surroundings with interest before looking up at Hagrid. His eyes went wide.

"It's okay, Trapinch," Hermione said soothingly, correctly interpreting Trapinch's reaction. "Hagrid won't do anything to you." Trapinch didn't look entirely convinced. Hagrid chuckled.

"Hey there, lil' guy," he said soothingly. Gently he reached out a hand. Trapinch, still wary, watched the hand carefully. Then he leapt forward and bit it.

"Trapinch, no!" Hermione shouted immediately, rising from her chair to try and pull Trapinch loose. "No, we do not bite!" Hagrid just laughed.

"Ah, don't worry about it Hermione," he said, waving her away with his free hand, the other firmly in Trapinch's grip. "He's jus' playin'."

Harry wasn't so sure but he supposed Hagrid's bulk and demanding job gave him more of a tolerance to bites than Ron had. Hermione obviously thought the same for she sat back down again, leaving Trapinch attached to Hagrid's hand.

They stayed there for another couple of hours, talking with Hagrid about anything and everything. They were particularly interested by what he had to say about the Tri-Pokémon Tournament but the groundskeeper was quite tightlipped, only saying that it'd be an amazing thing to see again.

Eventually it became close to the time they were due back in the Great Hall for the feast but before they could head off Hagrid remembered something, an excited look crossing his face.

"I've got somethin' ter show yeh," he told them, rising to his feet. Trapinch, jaws still clenched over Hagrid's hand, rose up with him, legs dangling in the air.

Hagrid looked surprised. It looked like he had forgotten Trapinch was there.

"Oh, Trapinch," Hermione said exasperatedly, rounding the table so she could pick the suspended ground type out of the air. Finally Trapinch released Hagrid's hand as he snuggled safely in Hermione's arms.

"Sorry about that, Hagrid," Hermione apologised but again Hagrid waved it off.

"No harm done," he said cheerfully. Harry wasn't so sure. He'd caught a brief glimpse of Hagrid's hand once Trapinch had let go and it wasn't a pretty sight.

"Anyway, I've got somethin' ter show yeh," Hagrid continued, regaining his excited demeanour. "Outside."

Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a look. Usually the things Hagrid got excited about were a combination of large and dangerous. Fluffy the Hydreigon immediately sprung to mind. Nevertheless they followed him out the back of his hut.

Hagrid's hut was situated near the edge of the forest but there was some space before the trees where Hagrid had set up a paddock, which he used to house any Pokémon he was nursing back to health. Currently, however, the paddock was home to four enormous Salamence.

"Aren't they beautiful," Hagrid said, looking wistfully up at them, imagining, no doubt, being able to raise one for himself.

"Shelgon!" Norbert the Shelgon, one of Hagrid's three Pokémon, took this moment to walk up to them, a bucket balanced on top which sloshed loudly with water.

"Thank you, Norbert," Hagrid told the dragon Pokémon and he picked up the bucket before turning back and gesturing to the students. "Come on, don't yeh want ter see 'em up close."

Harry, Ron and Hermione were more than a little intimidated. Sure, they'd met some incredible Pokémon in their time, more than some, but they'd never seen them like they did now. The Salamence were beautiful, majestically so, and they looked down on them with such powerful confidence that they left the three fourth years weak at the knees.

Hagrid sighed as he placed the bucket down by the fence, watching the Salamence.

"Professor 'Agrid!" A voice called over, grabbing their attention. Hagrid's eyebrows rose.

"Er, 'ello," he said awkwardly. "Eh, I mean, Bonjour."

Madame Maxime did not seem to care about Hagrid's response. Instead she seemed more interested in the Pokémon.

"I 'ave just escorted my pupils to ze 'all," she said, before turning to Hagrid. "You are… completing your duties?" Hagrid nodded.

"Tha's right," he said proudly. "Been makin' poffins all night. Beautiful Salamence yeh got 'ere. Really well cared fer." Madame Maxime raised an eyebrow.

"I care for ze Salamence," she told him imperiously. Hagrid looked impressed.

"Do yeh really? That's impressive, on top o' runnin' a school an' all," he told her. Madame Maxime nodded. It seemed modesty was a trait lost on her.

"Ze Salamence require cleaning," she told Hagrid.

"Jus' doin' it now," Hagrid replied, kicking the bucket next to him. Water sloshed out and splashed onto the grass. Madame Maxime watched him for a moment.

"Very well," she said eventually. "I will return to ze feast." She walked away.

Hagrid let out a low whistle.

"Wha' a woman," he said, watching her go. "Ter look after these Salamence so well, an' be Headmistress…" He was deeply impressed.

They left soon after, Madame Maxime's appearance warning them that the feast was due to start. But Hagrid wouldn't come.

"I've got a job ter do," he told them, dropping a sponge into the bucket and soaking it. "I'd be doin' a disservice ter Madame Maxime if I didn't properly look after 'er Pokémon, wouldn't I."

But Hagrid promised he would be there in time for the champions to be chosen. "Wouldn't wanna miss that." And so Harry, Ron and Hermione headed back across the lawn towards the castle.

They had made it no more than half way across when Ron nudged Harry in the side.

The Durmstrang students were disembarking from their ship. At the head of the group stood Karkaroff, flanked by Stefanov with Viktor Krum heading the line of students. They walked swiftly, huddled together in one large pack, as they strode towards the castle.

"Do you reckon they'll walk around as a group all year," Ron wondered as they too headed for the castle. They were a fair bit behind the Durmstrang students so weren't worried of being overheard.

"I suppose at first they will," Hermione said. "Remember how difficult it was to find our way around in first year. This whole experience is new for them."

They reached the castle doors and walked inside. Already there was plenty of noise coming from the Great Hall and as they entered Harry realised that they were among the very last ones there.

Like always the hall was a festive delight. It seemed Hogwarts was keen to put on a show for, along with the usual Gourgeist, Lampent and Chandelure floating around, there were also many other ghostly Pokémon. Misdreavus, Gastly, Haunter, Duskull, Phantump, were among just the few Harry was able to make out floating overhead and, sometimes, down the aisles.

Of the visitors present roughly half seemed impressed. The Durmstrang students were having a blast, talking and laughing loudly, pointing around the hall at the various Pokémon they saw flying about. By contrast the Beauxbatons students were quiet, noses stuck in the air in distaste. Harry wondered whether Halloween was even something they celebrated in France.

The food was terrific, as it always was. Even with the various foreign meals that Harry could not name or recognise there was still plenty of the traditional foodstuffs to satisfy the stomaches of the students of Hogwarts who always looked forward to the Halloween Feast.

This year was different, however. This year the feast was just the precursor, an opening act, for the true festivities of the evening. By the time pudding was served there were few who weren't already moving on to the most important event of the night and soon after the plates and bowls were being cleared away and Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. He said a quick word to Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff and together the three heads walked round the end of the table to stand at the front, in the very centre of the hall. Before them, sitting on a plinth, was the Tri-Pokémon Cup.

"And so we come to the beginning," Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Tonight we select the champions to represent each of our three fine institutions to compete for this magnificent trophy." He gestured to where the cup stood, glinting in the light of the Litwick, Lampent and Chandelure.

"I endeavour not to keep you waiting any longer," Dumbledore said simply. "Professor McGonagall, if you would."

Professor Minerva McGonagall stepped forward from her position at the side of the hall and placed a very old, very familiar, three legged stool on the floor before Dumbledore, and Harry knew what was going to happen next.

A quick flash of red confirmed his suspicions and the Sorting Xatu appeared on his stool, as stoic and unmoving as he almost always was. At the back of the hall Harry spotted Hagrid sidling in, not a moment too soon.

"For our honoured guests of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang I shall make a brief introduction," Dumbledore said courteously. "This is the Sorting Xatu, a centuries old Pokémon with the ability to see into the future. For his long history at Hogwarts he has served by sorting our students into houses when they first arrive here aged eleven. His second, lesser known, role is that he has also been the one to choose the Tri-Pokémon champions whenever the event has taken place at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore turned to Xatu. "Xatu, if you would."

The whole hall was silent, every eye on Xatu to see what he would do. Harry himself was at a loss. Was Xatu going to fly around the hall and pick out the students? Was he going to tell Dumbledore the names of the champions through telepathy? What was going to happen?

The answer came soon as Xatu ever so slowly raised his wings to the sky and a glowing ball of energy started to grow above his head.

"The Beauxbatons champion first, if you would," Dumbledore said quietly. Xatu made no sign he'd heard but then he never did. Instead the blue ball of energy above his head grew bigger and bigger before finally it stopped, a sphere of pulsating psychic energy held unsupported in the air.

Suddenly the sphere started to move. It floated smoothly from between Xatu's wings and up into the air, floating almost aimlessly over the crowd of students. The ghost type Pokémon above shrank back from the ball, eyeing it warily, as it reached the centre of the room.

Then it changed direction. It floated sideways, out towards the wall and over the Ravenclaw table where the Beauxbatons students sat. Everyone held their breath.

The sphere floated in place for a moment, almost as though it was deciding something, before it dropped slowly to hover over the head of one girl in particular.

"Fleur Delacour," Madame Maxime proclaimed loudly, the girl turning to look at her. "Please come 'ere."

The girl stood up, the whole hall still silent as she walked the length of the hall, the sphere having disintegrated into nothing, and moved to stand before Madame Maxime. Dumbledore turned back to Xatu.

"The Durmstrang champion next," Dumbledore said and again, after a few moments, a new ball of light started to grow between Xatu's wings. Again the ball grew and grew and again as it reached its maximum size it flew into the air to float up above the centre of the hall.

This time the sphere went the other way, towards the Slytherins. It floated above the Durmstrang students before dropping to hover over one boy's head.

"Bravo Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, clapping his hands enthusiastically. The rest of the Durmstrang students followed his lead as the boy stood up and made his way to stand before his headmaster. Karkaroff had not bothered to identify his champion for everyone else's benefit. He didn't have to. Everyone knew who Viktor Krum was.

Dumbledore turned to Xatu for a final time.

"And now, the Hogwarts champion," he said, and the room fell into a hushed silence, perhaps even quieter than it had been before. No one said a word as Xatu formed a third glowing blue sphere of psychic energy and it floated high above the Great Hall.

Who was going to be chosen? Was it going to be Angelina or Cedric? The sphere hovered between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables for what seemed like an eternity before it eventually dropped down…

… and landed upon Cedric's head.

The Hufflepuff table exploded with cheers and, despite Xatu having not chosen Angelina, Harry joined in. Hufflepuff rarely got a chance to celebrate like this, having not had a particularly powerful or talented student in all the years Harry had been here, and this was their night.

"Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore called, smiling broadly as he looked down on the new Hogwarts champion as he was surrounded by his fellow Hufflepuffs. "Would you please join us at the front of the hall."

Cedric did so, having his back slapped by his overjoyed housemates as he went, standing proudly in front of where Dumbledore had stood, in line with his fellow champions, as Dumbledore himself stepped forward to address the students.

"Well there we have it," he said with a proud smile. "Our -" But he never got to finish. A pulsating blue light brought him short.

Xatu was holding another, a fourth, pulsating blue sphere above his head and, ignoring the questioning looks from all around, tossed it into the air. The whole crowd watched the pulsating sphere, torn between surprise, confusion, and concern. Harry had a very bad feeling about this.

As though sensing his trepidation the sphere dropped down towards the students and towards the Gryffindor table.

 _Let it be Angelina_ , Harry thought desperately. _Please, just be Angelina_. But his pleas went ignored.

The blue sphere came to a stop directly above his head and, as the whole hall looked at him in a mixture of shock, and even anger, Harry gulped.

"I think that's enough for the night," Dumbledore said softly. His voice was easily heard over the silence of the room. "If everyone would please return to their dormitories. I will see you all tomorrow."

For a long time no one moved but eventually a low rumble filled the hall as students began to rise to their feet. All around Harry people stood up, glancing long and often towards him as they made the slow journey out of the Great Hall, and Harry could only wish that the pulsating blue orb of psychic energy would just disintegrate. But Harry didn't have that kind of luck.

"Dmitry!" Karkaroff's voice rose high over the sound of leaving students. "Take the students back to the ship!" Harry glanced up towards the staff table, the students having cleared out enough for him to make out the three heads and their champions standing there. Maxime looked torn.

"My pupils," she said, clearly wanting to lead her students back but also needing to stay and sort out… whatever this was.

"I'll look after 'em," Hagrid said, walking forward from his spot at the staff table to Madame Maxime's surprise. "Alright, yeh heard the lady. Back ter the carriage."

Soon enough the hall was all but deserted. The students, including Ron and Hermione, had left, leaving behind only those that stood at the front of the hall. Harry stared at the table. He did not want to look up.

"Harry." Dumbledore's voice was closer than Harry had expected, causing him to look up. Behind him Harry could see Cedric, looking worried, the girl from Beauxbatons, who Harry recognised as the one to ask for the bouillabaisse, looking confused, and Krum, his face unreadable. With them were the two heads, Maxime and Karkaroff, as well as McGonagall, Snape, Moody, Crouch, and Bagman, who looked as though he wanted to be excited but wasn't exactly sure why.

"What do you think you're playing at?" spat Karkaroff. Harry was taken aback by his ferocity. Dumbledore, too, thought it unjust. He held a hand to stop the irate Durmstrang head.

"Whatever the situation may be it is certainly no fault of Harry's," he said in that forever patient tone. "The Sorting Xatu is a creature many many times more wise and experienced than any of us could ever hope to be. There is no way that Harry could have had a hand in this."

"Then how do you explain it?" Karkaroff asked, his eyes narrowed. "Is it some new bylaw you slipped in, huh, Dumbledore?"

"Et eez suspicious, non," Maxime said, though thankfully she didn't appear to be accusing Harry. "I thought ze Sorting Xatu would be unbiased."

"And it was," Dumbledore pointed out. "Do either of you have objections to the champions that have been chosen for you?" Neither Karkaroff nor Maxime said anything to that. Satisfied, Dumbledore turned away.

"Mr Crouch," he said, addressing the crisply suited man standing far from the rest of the group. "You know the rule book better than anyone. What do you think of this situation?"

Crouch did not say anything at first. In fact it seemed as though it took a moment for him to process Dumbledore's words. Yet when he answered it was in the same, clipped tones that he'd used back at the World Cup.

"There is no rule that accounts for such an occasion," he said sharply. "Never before have any of the three methods for choosing champions resulted in any other combination than three; one from each school."

"We made history then," Bagman supplied with a weak laugh. Crouch ignored him.

"The only way we can treat this situation is by applying the same rules to Mr Potter as to the other three champions," Crouch continued. "He has been chosen by Xatu so therefore he has the right to take part in the tournament. He also has the same right to decline." The idea that this was the right thing to do hung in the air.

"So I suppose that's that then," Dumbledore said simply. "Harry, do you want to compete?" Harry blinked.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. His head was a blur. He could not think straight right now, let alone make such a decision. While he had obviously fantasised about the recognition he could get from winning he had similarly never expected to be in a position where he was actually allowed to compete. It was just too much for him to take.

"But he can't," the girl, Fleur Delacour, said loudly. "It is not fair on 'im, he is only a little boy." Though still drowning in a sea of confused thoughts and feelings that comment hit hard. _Little boy_. She knew nothing.

"I think you'd be surprised, Ms Delacour," McGonagall said sharply and Harry looked up in surprise. "Mr Potter has proven himself much more capable than his age suggests." Fleur did not look convinced, and neither did Madame Maxime. Snape looked like he couldn't disagree more.

"Quite," Dumbledore said simply. "In that case I think that's that. If Harry so chooses he can compete. If not, then we proceed with three champions as usual." Karkaroff did not look pleased.

"Now wait just one moment," he said angrily. "Do you think I will stand by when Hogwarts get twice the chance to win?"

"I think there's a good chance you will," a voice spoke from the back of the room. It was Professor Moody. Harry hadn't noticed him before now and certainly Karkaroff hadn't. He jumped and spun around upon hearing his voice.

"You are exceptionally good at standing by when atrocities occur," Moody continued, limping towards them. "Why should it be different this time, Igor."

"Alastor," Dumbledore said in a warning tone. Moody did not look like he cared but he didn't say anything else. He just gazed at Karkaroff with an unnerving stare. Karkaroff looked uncomfortable.

"I suppose we should get on with explaining the rules of the first task," Dumbledore said, sounding quite tired. "Barty, if you would do the honours." Again it seemed to take Mr Crouch a moment to process what Dumbledore had said but again he answered in a crisp, businesslike voice.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth," Crouch said without preamble. "The task is designed to test your ability to adapt quickly. Therefore you will not be receiving any further details of the task until twenty-four hours before hand."

"What I can tell you, and what holds true for the rest of the tasks as well, is that you may only use your own Pokémon for the tasks. Trying to use a Pokémon belonging to another trainer will be treated as a serious offence and will be punished by expulsion from the tournament."

"Finally, due to the time consuming nature of the tournament, all champions are exempt from end of year tests."

Well, that was a plus, Harry thought idly.

"If that is all I believe it is time for bed," Dumbledore said, looking expectantly around. No one said anything. "In that case, goodnight."

Karkaroff was the first to leave the room, leading Krum silently out the door, though Harry sensed he was absolutely fuming.

"I must check on my pupils," Madame Maxime said as she guided Fleur out soon after. Evidently she did not quite trust Hagrid yet.

Barty Crouch was soon to leave too, followed by a bouncing Ludo Bagman, who seemed to be trying to convince the austere man of something. McGonagall left, as did Snape, and then Moody limped out too, though not before muttering something unintelligible to Dumbledore.

Soon it was only Harry, Dumbledore and Cedric. Dumbledore sighed.

"Well then, I believe we should get cracking too," he told the students. "Mr Diggory, if I'm not very much mistaken I believe a party is taking place in the Hufflepuff Common Room, of which you are the guest of honour. It would be best not to deprive them of your presence any longer."

Cedric grinned. "Thanks Professor," he said gratefully. "See you Harry." And he was gone.

Dumbledore sighed again, this one sounding much more tired.

"I apologise, Harry," he said softly. "I did not wish to drag you into any more mess but it appears as if the fates have conspired against us once more."

"What happened?" Harry asked. He sensed there was something about tonight that Dumbledore had been unwilling to share in the company of the other schools' students and teachers.

"I do not know," Dumbledore admitted. He turned around. The Tri-Pokémon Cup was still there, sitting on a pedestal just before the staff table, but Xatu was gone.

"Why did Xatu choose me?" Harry asked, staring at the spot Xatu had stood.

"He had his reasons, of that I'm sure," Dumbledore answered. "But what those reasons are, I cannot say." He sounded worried. "All I can say is that Xatu would not have called upon you if it were not important."

Harry frowned. "Are you saying I should compete?" he asked, confused. Harry would have thought Dumbledore would have preferred him to bow out.

"I do not know what you should do," Dumbledore answered. "Except I know you should do what you want. You have a choice Harry. You can opt out and go on with your life as usual, or you can stay in and follow the course Xatu foresees for you."

"Did he tell you what that future was?" Harry asked.

"No," Dumbledore answered. "He did not."

A long silence hung between them, filled with the many questions that each were thinking but neither had an answer for. Dumbledore let out another tired sigh.

"You should get to bed, Harry," he said eventually. "You don't have to decide now whether you wish to compete or not. I think it would be a good idea to talk it over with Mr Weasley and Ms Granger."

"Okay," Harry said. Truthfully he just wanted to sleep but he supposed dealing with Ron and Hermione wouldn't be too bad. "I'll do that. Goodnight, Professor."

Harry left, leaving Dumbledore alone in the dark, silent Great Hall to ponder on everything that had gone wrong.

* * *

The journey up to the Gryffindor Common Room was absolutely silent. There was nobody there, a quick check of Harry's watch revealing that it was close to midnight, well after usual curfew. Most people would probably be getting ready for bed.

That's what he thought until the moment he opened the door to the Gryffindor Common Room and was greeted with a roar of noise. Automatically he stepped back, taken aback by the sudden sensory overload, but many hands reached out and pulled him through the door.

"Congratulations!" squealed Alicia Spinnet, one of the Gryffindor Chasers, pulling Harry into a surprise hug.

"Good on you!" Lee Jordan shouted, slapping him on the shoulder as he passed, being dragged aimlessly into the mass of Gryffindor students, all of whom seemed to have stayed up to wait for him.

The congratulations and exultations didn't stop as Harry was passed from one part of the room to another for everyone to cheer, shake his hand, slap him on the back, or give him a hug. Harry was starting to feel dizzy, the room around him spinning as he fought to keep his balance as he was pushed one way and then pushed another.

With great relief he found himself by the wall of the Common Room and, with even greater relief, he realised he was only a few steps away from the staircase to the boys dormitories.

"I'm tired," he told the crowd as he tried to push his way towards the staircase.

"Oh, come on Harry," George complained, having somehow followed him through the crowd as he was being passed around. "It's a time for celebration, isn't it."

"Well I'm tired," Harry said stubbornly. "I'm going to bed." And with one last squeeze between two tall seventh years Harry reached the staircase and climbed gratefully up to the fourth year boys dorm. Inside sat Ron and Hermione.

"Thank god," Harry said, relieved beyond words to see them there, sitting on his bed. He walked over to them and collapsed onto his covers, closing his eyes in blessed relief as he felt some of the tension in his muscles wane.

Eventually he opened his eyes again to see Hermione and Ron staring down at him. They looked like they were expecting something.

"What?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

"Well," Hermione said. "Tell us what happened." And though Harry wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and pretend it was all a bad dream he did so.

He told Ron and Hermione about Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff's reaction, about Fleur's insult, about the altercation between Moody and Karkaroff and, finally, Crouch's explanation of the rules and what that meant for Harry.

"So basically I can compete if I want to," Harry finished, now sitting with his back to his headboard. "There are no rules specifying the number of champions." Ron and Hermione were silent for a moment.

"Well, are you going to?" Ron asked. Harry wasn't sure but before he could answer Hermione did for him.

"Of course not," she said, aghast. "That would be ridiculous." Harry blinked.

"Why?" he asked. He didn't necessarily want to compete but that didn't mean he couldn't.

"Well, you're only a fourth year," Hermione explained as though it was obvious. "Cedric alone has two years experience on you and who knows about Fleur and Krum."

"They haven't had experience like Harry has," Ron countered. Harry turned to him.

"You think I should do it?" he asked.

"If you want to mate," Ron replied. "I know you joked about not wanting me to do it but if you want to then go for it. You can take any of the other champions, no sweat."

"Harry, don't," Hermione pleaded. "Please, just think about this. You're only fourteen there's no way you'll be able to keep up with Cedric and the others."

"Why not?" Harry asked. He was beginning to feel annoyed. "What have they done that I haven't? I've faced Voldemort three times and I'm still here, what could they possibly have done to match that?"

"Preach," Ron added supportively.

"You know it's not like that," Hermione said, sounding desperate now. "I know you're capable, you're more capable than anyone I know. But this isn't the same as facing Voldemort or saving the Sacred Ash. You'll be going up against other trainers who have years of experience of Pokémon battles and tactics that you haven't had yet. That's why it won't end well."

"The Sorting Xatu doesn't think so," Ron countered. "He chose Harry as champion, didn't he? If Xatu thinks Harry is good enough then that's that. End of discussion."

Hermione turned away from Ron. "Please, just think logically Harry," she begged him. "Something's up and if you do this then it won't end well."

Unfortunately for Hermione Harry had not gotten where he had by thinking logically.

"I'm going to compete," he said with a note of finality in his voice. Ron whooped. Hermione moaned.

"I know you think I'm just letting my pride get in the way," Harry told her, his voice as sure as it had been for hours. "But I've made my decision. Fleur, Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, they have no idea what I can do. McGonagall said so herself, I can surprise them."

"That's just because McGonagall likes you, Harry," Hermione told him, slightly hysterically.

"She wouldn't say it if she didn't think it was true," Harry denied. "In any case I'm not a coward. If they really are too good for me then I'll lose but at least I'll have tried. I'm not going to let an opportunity to show people what I can do pass me by."

His mind was made up and so that's what he told Dumbledore the next day, once he'd fought his way through the throng of Gryffindors packing the Common Room. Come hell or high water, he was going to compete.

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's it for another chapter, and a long one at that. I hope you enjoyed.

I just want to address the comment about Pikachu seemingly disappearing the last few chapters. Personally I think Harry's three Pokemon have had pretty even amounts of attention but I understand that it can seem as though I have simply forgotten about a Pokemon if I haven't mentioned them in a while. This will happen occasionally but I can promise you that Pikachu will get more than his fare share of screen time, as will all Harry's Pokemon, including those that haven't appeared yet in the story.

Otherwise I hope you've all enjoyed and I look forward to seeing you in the next chapter.


	8. Rita Skeeter

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The atmosphere around the castle over the next couple of days was one of tense uncertainty. Somehow, probably from Cedric telling his Hufflepuff friends what had happened, word had got out that Harry was allowed to compete, but only if he decided he wanted to. The answer to that question was what was keeping the school populace on the edge of their seats.

Harry had become tightlipped after informing Dumbledore of his decision to compete, not saying anything to anyone apart from Ron and Hermione, who did their part in diverting curious outsiders who wanted to be in the know.

But eventually there was going to be a point where it was confirmed that Harry was going to be a fourth Tri-Pokémon champion and the tipping point for that came Wednesday where the fourth year Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Physiology class played host to an unexpected visitor.

The class was going on much the same way it always did, the subject matter today being the characteristics shared by Pokémon with the ability to Teleport, when a knock sounded on the classroom door and Professor McGonagall called for whoever it was to enter.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," Albus Dumbledore said genially, shocking the entire class, including the aforementioned professor in the process. "I hope this is not a bad time." McGonagall quickly pulled herself together.

"Of course not," she said briskly, returning to her usual businesslike demeanour. "What can we do for you, Headmaster?"

"I was wondering if I could borrow Mr Potter for the rest of the class," Dumbledore said politely, although his mention of Harry spiked everybody's interest.

"Of course," McGonagall said immediately, before turning to Harry. "Gather your things, Mr Potter, and please be quick. I'm sure you'll be able to get notes for the rest of today's lecture from Ms Granger, as well as this week's assignment."

The whole class groaned. They expected homework from McGonagall, she was a strict taskmaster, but there was always that tiny hope that she would forget or go easy on them. She never did.

Harry quickly gathered up his notes, doing his best to hide his doodles from McGonagall's watchful gaze, and stuffed them quickly into his bag along with his Physiology textbook. He swung his bag onto his back and, with a wave to Ron and Hermione, hurried over to Dumbledore.

The classroom door closed behind him, drowning out McGonagall's voice as she continued her lecture.

"How are you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked first off, not giving a hint as to why he'd called him out of class. Harry hesitated.

"Alright," he answered. "No one really knows anything so…" he trailed off.

"And I see you have been making good use of your time," Dumbledore commented, starting to walk down the corridor, Harry following him. "That was some drawing of Ms Patil's hair clip I saw." Harry blushed. In his boredom he'd doodled a quick drawing of Parvati's colourful hair clip, the girl sitting in the seat directly in front of him. It was apparently a present from Lavender and was designed to match the patterns of Lavender's Vivillon.

"Sometimes even the best of us can find it difficult to concentrate," Dumbledore chuckled, relieving Harry's worry of being scolded. "What the students don't realise is that Professors with the experience the likes of Minerva McGonagall know full well when their students are not paying attention." Now Harry felt guilty again.

"Professor, why did you come for me?" Harry asked, trying to direct the conversation away from his own misdeeds.

"Ah, well, I came on some Tri-Pokémon related business," Dumbledore answered. "I suppose the best way to describe it - to coin a common sports phrase - is a media day." Harry's stomach turned.

"Media day," he repeated. He felt a bit sick. Dumbledore noticed.

"It is nothing to worry about too much," Dumbledore assured him. "It is just part of the publicity of the tournament. The Daily Prophet have a piece planned where they hear from the champions themselves about their ambitions and goals and what they think about the tournament in general."

That didn't make Harry feel any better. Ambitions? Goals? Harry knew why he had agreed to participate but he sure wasn't ready to tell everyone else about his desire to prove himself. They'd take that the wrong way, he was sure. He'd never live it down.

"Do not worry, Harry," Dumbledore assured him. "You do not have to do this alone." This perked Harry up.

"I don't?" he asked. Dumbledore shook his head.

"As a minor it is written in law that you must have a parent or guardian present when interviewed," Dumbledore explained. "I will not be leaving your side for even a moment. You do not have to worry about that."

They stopped at a door and Harry suddenly realised this must be their final destination.

"After you, Harry," Dumbledore said pleasantly and Harry, steeling himself with all his Gryffindor courage, opened the door.

He was blinded almost immediately by a flash of light and was forced to blink violently as spots obscured his vision.

"Now steady on, steady on," Ludo Bagman's voice sounded loudly. "What you doing, trying to blind the poor kid?"

"This way, Harry," Dumbledore murmured in his ear, a reassuring hand on his back guiding him further into the room as Harry finally started to regain his lost vision.

The first thing he saw were the other three champions, grouped together on one side of the room. Krum was slouched in the corner, looking at no one, while Fleur stood by the window, conversing in rapid french with Madame Maxime. Cedric, the only one to acknowledge Harry's arrival, gave a weak grin. Harry wondered if he was just as nervous about this media session as he was.

"Right then," Bagman spoke up, gathering everyone's attention. "Now that everyone's here, let's get started."

"What about Mr Crouch?" Fleur Delacour asked. Indeed the straight faced man was not present in the room.

"Urgent business at the Ministry, I'm afraid," Bagman explained. "I told him he should be here, Hogwarts is where it's happening, but the poor man is obsessed with his job."

"We'll look forward to seeing him for the first task," Dumbledore said simply. Harry wondered if Dumbledore knew why Crouch wasn't there.

"Absolutely," Bagman said. "Now on to why we're here. I have with me the lovely Ms Rita Skeeter, correspondent for the Daily Prophet, who will be interviewing the champions one by one. And of course her photographer," Bagman added hastily after receiving a nasty glare from the short, thick set man.

So that was who Harry had to blame for his temporary blindness.

While Harry was sizing up the camera man the woman, Rita Skeeter, stepped forward. She had blonde hair, worn in tight curls, and she wore a pair of stylish spectacles, through which she gazed at them with a sort of hunger in her eyes. Her fingers, long fake nails painted blood red, clutched tightly to her acid green pen, giving off the impression she wanted to sink her claws into them, both metaphorically and literally.

She smiled.

"Alright, well let's get started," she said in a sugary voice. She consulted a clipboard in her non pen holding hand and read out a name. "Mr Krum, why don't we start with you, hmm?"

Rita Skeeter positioned herself on one of two wooden chairs set up on the other side of the room, balancing her clipboard delicately on her knee as she waited for the Durmstrang champion. Krum took his time, slouching uninterestedly from his corner to take a seat opposite.

The camera flashed in his face but Krum didn't flinch. He must have been used to it from his Quidditch exploits.

Harry watched the interview with avid fascination, for many different reasons. The first, and most pressing, was that he wanted to be prepared for whatever Rita Skeeter asked him. The second, slightly less pressing but an issue that had nagged at him for awhile, was that he wanted to get a better idea of what Krum was like. He'd saved his life, perhaps, after the Quidditch World Cup but had disappeared almost immediately afterwards. And since he'd arrived at Hogwarts he'd barely spoken a word from what Harry could see.

In one of his goals Harry was deeply disappointed. Rita Skeeter had obviously come well prepared with questions for the Bulgarian prodigy but Krum wasn't in a talkative mood. No matter what Skeeter asked or what she suggested Krum's responses came in monotones and one word answers, giving little to nothing away. In the end Krum was guided from the room by Karkaroff with Harry no closer to understanding what made the Durmstrang champion tick.

Fleur was next and while Rita Skeeter started off with many of the same questions about what it meant to be chosen and how she felt about the tasks ahead the conversation quickly changed, to Harry's surprise, to fashion.

Fleur herself didn't seem to know what to make of it, perhaps wondering whether her english was failing her, but she managed to answer Skeeter's questions anyway and was soon being accompanied out the room by Madame Maxime, a confused look on her face.

Cedric was up next and Rita Skeeter seemed to straighten up in her seat.

"Mr Diggory, congratulations," she told him, smiling a wide, glinting white smile. "How does it feel to be one of the Hogwarts champions?"

"Great," Cedric replied with a smile. This question had come up in both previous interviews and so Cedric had had plenty of time to decide on his response. "I'm really proud to be representing Hogwarts, and Hufflepuff House especially."

"And I'm sure they're very proud of you," Skeeter said delightfully. "But tell me, Cedric, is there not some tension within the school over there being two Hogwarts champions?"

"Eh no," Cedric said. "Everyone is very supported."

"I have heard word that some within Hufflepuff House believe Mr Potter to have stolen some of your thunder," Skeeter said conspiratorially. "Is there concern that Hufflepuff students may not recognise Mr Potter as a legitimate champion?" Cedric hesitated. That was all the answer that Skeeter needed.

"Well then, I think that's all we need," Skeeter said sweetly. "You can return to your classes now dear."

"Eh what?" Cedric asked, non-plussed. His interview had been substantially shorter than either Fleur's or Krum's. In fact, Skeeter had barely asked Cedric anything at all while she'd questioned Fleur extensively on Parisian fashion and a non responsive Krum on his Quidditch fame.

"You may go. I think we have enough for the article," Skeeter told him, again smiling that sugary sweet smile. Cedric nervously turned to look at Dumbledore.

"Lunch will be served soon," Dumbledore said, favouring Cedric with a warm smile which seemed to comfort the sixth year boy. "Perhaps you can get a head start on getting your favourite dish."

"Thanks Professor," Cedric said gratefully and he too left. Harry swallowed.

"Now, Mr Potter," Skeeter said as Harry unwillingly approached his seat. "Our forth, unexpected, champion." Harry didn't say anything. The more and more he thought about it the more he felt like Krum's method would be the best to replicate.

"Now, Harry, why don't we get right to it," Skeeter said. "You are, forgive me, incredibly young for such a prestigious tournament. Do you feel you are prepared, that you have what it takes, to challenge the other champions." She leaned forward in her seat, staring at him with unblinking eyes, and Harry had to fight his instinct to run.

He swallowed. "The Sorting Xatu thought I could do it," he said in lieu of an answer. Skeeter smiled widely.

"And how have your classmates reacted to this?" she asked. "What sort of emotions did they show?"

"They've been very supportive," Harry said, echoing Cedric's words. He didn't much like Rita Skeeter, especially with her eyes locked on him. Add on top of that the cameraman blinding him with pictures whenever he wasn't speaking made Harry feel like he was being interrogated, rather than interviewed.

"Now you're not a total stranger to danger," Skeeter said. "I can't tell you what rumours I've heard of your first few years at this school. My question is, if your parents were alive today how do you think they would feel about you entering this tournament?"

Harry hesitated. "I don't know," he said simply. "I never knew them."

"But imagine, please, Harry," Skeeter beseeched. "Imagine they were still alive and you were telling them you were choosing to compete-"

"I think that'll be enough for today," Dumbledore stepped in, cutting Rita Skeeter off mid-sentence, much to Harry's relief. "Unfortunately we have run out of time. We must be off to lunch."

"Lunch can wait, can't it Dumbledore," Skeeter assured him.

"But should it?" Dumbledore countered. He placed a hand firmly on Harry's shoulder and, with a small squeeze, prompted Harry to get to his feet. "I believe you can find your own way out."

Harry walked out the door with no small relief, Dumbledore following behind and standing between himself and the cameraman who was desperately trying to get one last shot of Harry.

The door closed and Dumbledore sighed.

"I am sorry, Harry," he said simply, guiding Harry down the corridor and away from the door.

Harry shrugged. "Wasn't your fault."

Dumbledore hesitated before answering.

"I certainly could have avoided it," he admitted eventually. "Rita Skeeter has quite a reputation in the Pokémon world, and not the best at that. I had hoped the Daily Prophet would think to send someone else for the piece but I suppose that was foolish of me."

"Is she always like that?" Harry wondered. Dumbledore pondered for a second.

"Yes," he said eventually. "Don't get me wrong she's a brilliant journalist. In another life I could imagine her making a name for herself as a Ministry Interrogator. Unfortunately she tends to use her skills for gossip, and slander. She made a name for herself writing a book about my predecessor. Twenty-five percent fact, seventy-five wild conjecture."

Dumbledore paused.

"I tell you this, Harry, to warn you of the likely outcome of this interview," he told him.

"You think she's going to lie?" Harry asked worriedly.

"No, not outright," Dumbledore denied. "But I can imagine her article will be a poor reflection of what has been said today."


	9. The First Hint

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Dumbledore couldn't have been more right, and Harry couldn't have been more outraged. Rita Skeeter's article was printed in the next day's Daily Prophet and, as Dumbledore had predicted, was far more fiction than fact, and had little to do with the Tri-Pokémon Tournament.

What the article actually was about was Harry, detailing his tragic past, throwing out wild conjectures over his motive for competing against obviously more skilled and experienced trainers, all the while dropping quotes at the most misleading of moments. Fleur and Krum were barely mentioned, each gaining just a paragraph each at the bottom. Cedric's name didn't come up at all. It was like he didn't exist.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione snapped as a group of Hufflepuff fifth years barged ahead of them on the way into the Great Hall. They did not bother to acknowledge her.

"Gits," Ron muttered as he followed after them, glaring holes in their backs.

"What on earth makes them think that sort of behaviour is acceptable," Hermione ranted hotly. She was getting worked up, and it was hardly surprising. This was only the latest in a series of events that had taken place since the release of Skeeter's article.

The day before the champions' media session no one had been sure if Harry was going to compete or not. The day after everyone knew for sure.

Harry could somewhat understand the reaction from the rest of the school. The Gryffindors loved Harry and the Slytherins hated him so there was nothing new on that front. The Ravenclaws, naturally a brainy bunch, reserved judgement on the whole, though they obviously thought, like most of the school, that Cedric was the legitimate Hogwarts champion. Harry had hoped that the Hufflepuffs, famously known for being friendly and welcoming, would see to it to at least treat him fairly.

He had miscalculated just how much having a Hufflepuff as champion meant to them.

Everywhere Harry went for the two weeks that followed the release of Skeeter's article he was met with stony looks and cold words from the students clad in yellow. They made no secret of how they felt Harry was stealing glory from their house, fixing him with disparaging looks as he passed, not even caring that he knew they were staring. Even the Hufflepuffs in Harry's classes, who he usually got on very well with, would not speak to him.

"I mean really, do they not see that it's Skeeter that's the problem?" Hermione ranted as the three of them walked to the Gryffindor table. "Do they not realise that Harry has nothing to do with this?"

"You know what," Ron said thoughtfully, pausing in the process of shoving food into his mouth. "I think they do. They just want to be mad because they thought they'd won at something for a change. Gits."

Harry glanced up from his spot at the Gryffindor table, looking over to where the Hufflepuffs sat. Maybe it was true what Ron said. After all, Hufflepuffs weren't stupid. Maybe they just felt the need to vent their frustration and Harry was an easy target. It didn't make Harry feel much better about it.

His gaze wandered past the Hufflepuffs and unwillingly landed on the Slytherin table behind them. Draco Malfoy was sitting there, flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle, and when he saw Harry looking his way he tapped a badge adorned to his chest, grinning maliciously.

Malfoy had mostly stayed out of Harry's way for the first month or so of the new term. However, he had more than made up for lost time over the last two weeks.

He, along with several of his Slytherin housemates, had come up with a new way to torture Harry by designing and distributing badges for the Hogwarts populace, each adorned with a message: 'Support Cedric Diggory - The Real Hogwarts Champion', or the far less subtle slogan 'Potter Stinks'.

Harry ripped his gaze away from Malfoy and his goons, who were laughing outright by this point, and refocused on his friends at the Gryffindor table, just in time to hear the end of Hermione's tirade about how, if what Ron had said was true, the Hufflepuffs were being even more stupid than she gave them credit for.

"What do we have after lunch?" Harry asked. He didn't need to - he already knew it was Pokémon Statistics with the Ravenclaws - but he didn't want to talk about why exactly most of the school hated him so he changed the subject.

"Stats," Ron answered but he was looking past Harry to something in the distance. "Looks like you've got mail, mate."

Harry turned and sure enough there was a tiny little Pidgey flying towards him, fluttering down the length of the Gryffindor table and landing on the edge of Harry's soup bowl, holding out its leg. Harry accepted the letter that was attached, pulling it from the string secured to Pidgey's leg, and immediately the small bird Pokémon flew off, quickly disappearing out through the sunlit window.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked as Harry unfolded the crunched up scrap of paper.

"Hagrid," Harry responded, not really surprised, recognising the dishevelled handwriting. Hagrid was one of the very few people who ever sent him mail.

"It looks like he wrote this in a rush," Hermione commented, peering over Harry's shoulder to read. Harry let her. "Dear Harry, Come round to my hut ASAP. Hagrid."

Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a look.

"So," Ron said eventually. "Are we going or what?"

There really was no argument. Despite Hagrid's occasional eccentricities he was one of the few people Harry trusted completely and if he needed them to come see him then they were going.

The only worry that lingered in the back of his mind was that he'd never been called so urgently to Hagrid's cabin. Not even when Hagrid had found Scabbers had he insisted the trio come see him immediately.

Harry, Ron and Hermione made it down to Hagrid's in quick time, half running as they felt a sense of urgency in Hagrid's note. When reaching the door Harry knocked hard, waiting on tenterhooks for the door to open as Fang's familiar, comforting bark sounded from inside.

"Well 'ello there," Hagrid's big, bearded face beamed down at them. "Didn't expect ter see you lot." He winked. "Come in, come in."

Harry, Ron and Hermione, perplexed, walked into Hagrid's cabin… and discovered he was not alone.

"Charlie!" Harry, Ron and Hermione gasped together.

Charlie Weasley, sitting at Hagrid's great oak table, put his head in his hand and groaned.

"Hagrid," he complained, looking up at the giant man from behind his hand. "Did you call them? Was that what you were doing when you went for some 'fresh air'?"

Hagrid put on his best oblivious look. "Don't know what yeh're talkin' about," he said unconvincingly, an enormous grin breaking out behind his bushy beard. Charlie planted his hand back over his face.

"Charlie, what the hell are you doing here?" Ron gaped.

"Nothin'," Charlie growled.

"Are you here to watch the first task?" Hermione asked interestedly. Charlie fixed her with a penetrating look.

"Sort of," he replied, his voice guarded.

Harry blinked. There was something going on here. Hagrid was grinning broadly, evidently very pleased with himself, whilst beside him Harry could almost hear Hermione's brain working overtime. And then it clicked. Beside him Hermione gasped.

"What?" Ron said, recognising the look on Hermione's face anywhere. "What's going on? What happened?" Charlie glanced at him, then closed his eyes in defeat.

"You're here for work, aren't you?" Hermione said excitedly. "And you are here for the first task?" There was a long pause.

"No comment," Charlie said simply, his voice expressionless. Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You realise that by saying no comment you are essentially confirming what I'm thinking," she told him smugly. Charlie looked annoyed.

"No comment," he simply repeated.

"Hang on, what's going on?" Ron said, sounding annoyed himself. "What's Charlie doing here?"

"Your brother works with dragons, doesn't he," Hermione said excitedly, for now acting as though Charlie wasn't even there. "And he's here to work on the first task. That means that the task must have something to do with dragon type Pokémon. I'm right, aren't I?" She fixed Charlie with an expectant look. Charlie stared back mutinously.

Hagrid chuckled. "Yeh might as well tell 'em," he said cheerfully. "Smartest kid her age, 'ermione is. Nothin's gettin' past her."

Charlie sighed. He looked defeated.

"You realise I can't tell them," he said, talking to Hagrid alone. "It's against the rules. It's cheating. If anyone found out…"

"We wouldn't tell anyone," Hermione said quickly.

"Yeah, we're not thick," agreed Ron. Charlie looked at them hopelessly, then up at Hagrid, and then sighed.

"Fine," he admitted, slumping slightly in his seat. "Fine. Yes, Hermione, you're right. Happy, Hagrid?"

"Yeh could at least tell 'em a bit more," Hagrid said, causing Charlie to roll his eyes.

"Fine," he spat out. "But I hope everyone understands that I'm putting my career at risk by saying this. You hear that. My whole career." He glared at each of them, trying to intimidate them into backing down. They just looked back expectantly.

He sighed once more.

"Fine, yes, I'll tell you," he caved. "Just… don't say anything, right. To anyone."

"The only people I'd want to know are right here," Harry said simply. Charlie looked at him for a moment, and then nodded.

"Right, well, you pretty much got it," Charlie admitted, Harry, Ron and Hermione leaning in eagerly. "We're shipping in four dragons from Romania for the task on Sunday night, one dragon for each champion I think."

"And?" Harry asked. Charlie shrugged.

"Come on Charlie, don't be a git," Ron said in annoyance. Charlie glared.

"I didn't say anything cause I don't know anything, Ron," he argued back. "Seriously, my only job is to bring the dragons here, look after them, and take them back. I don't know why they wanted dragons - I suppose to battle them or something - but I'm not in the loop on all that. I've told you what I know."

There was silence as Charlie sat back in his seat and shut his mouth tight. There was nothing more he had to say.

Hagrid broke the silence with a loud clap of his massive dustbin lid sized hands, causing everyone to jump.

"Right then," he boomed. "Now that's outta the way 'ow abou' a nice cuppa tea. You guys don't have ter be goin' anywhere, do yeh?"

"No Hagrid," Harry said, smiling as the man beamed at him and quickly started busying himself with the kettle. He, Ron and Hermione made their way over to the table, where Charlie was starting to look more relaxed now that the conversation had shifted, and sat down.

"How you doing, Harry?" he asked as Hagrid clattered around in the kitchen. "Nervous? The first task's in less than a week." Harry was nervous, exceedingly so, and was more than aware, not just of how many days were left until the task, but was running down a mental clock in his head until he had to stand out in front of the entire school and face his first, and maybe last, challenge.

Of course he couldn't say that.

"I'm doing alright," he said instead. Charlie snorted.

"Shouldn't have asked," he said. "Not when I can just read what Rita Skeeter has to say." He put on a voice. "When challenged as to whether he was capable of keeping up with his older and more experienced challengers from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang Harry Potter was defiant. 'No, the Sorting Xatu thinks I'm strong enough'."

It was as if Charlie had flicked a switch in Harry's brain and suddenly Harry found all of it, all the stress, all the tension, all the dark looks and cold glares, come speeding to the surface.

"That evil hag!" he burst out, surprising everyone in the hut. "She twisted my words, twisted everything that I said for her 'story'!"

"So you didn't say the Sorting Xatu thought you were good enough?" Charlie challenged.

"No! Well, yes, sort of," Harry stammered. "It doesn't matter. She twisted my meaning! I wasn't saying that! And the way she talked about Fleur and Krum! She made it sound like all Fleur could talk about was clothes, but she was the one asking all those questions! And Krum, he wouldn't give her anything so she made up lies about him being slow and dumb! She didn't even mention Cedric!"

"Woah, woah, calm down, Harry," Charlie said, waving appeasingly to slow down Harry's stream of complaints. "Trust me, I know. Everyone with half a brain can tell the article's bullshit and that Skeeter is a liar and a fraud."

"Tell that to the Hufflepuffs," Ron said angrily. It seemed that Harry's outburst had riled him up as well. "You should see the way they've been treating Harry. It's awful. I have half a mind to set Arcanine on them."

Charlie went to say something but Hermione cut across him before he could.

"It's true," she said, evidently thinking he was going to contradict her. "They're all acting as though Harry did this all on purpose, like he could convince the Sorting Xatu to pick him. If he had the power to do that why would he let Cedric get picked at all."

"I agree," Charlie said hastily before she could get ahead of steam. "Really, I do. I've seen what Skeeter can do to people with her stories but trust me, things will get better."

"They will?" Harry said doubtfully.

"They will," Charlie confirmed. "The Hufflepuffs will come round. They're just hurting a bit and need to lash out. Trust me, when they see what you're up against they'll be right behind you along with everyone else."

"Except the Slytherins," Harry countered.

"Well, that's a little unrealistic, isn't it," Charlie grinned. "The point is: don't sweat the small stuff. Just focus on getting through this tournament and everything will fall into place. Trust me."


	10. Hogsmeade

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Charlie's assurances did little to comfort Harry over the next few days. While he fully believed that Charlie was correct in his thinking that the Hufflepuffs would come round it didn't make dealing with their cold indifference now any easier.

On top of that Charlie's hints about the first task weren't particularly useful either. Clearly the task had something to do with dragon Pokémon but what was still a mystery. Did they have to battle them? Maybe the challenge was to ride them instead? Surely it couldn't be a written test?

The only way Harry could think to prepare was to practice battling, spending a lot of his free time with Ron and Hermione practicing with Charmeleon. If he was going to have to battle then Charmeleon was going to be his best bet.

And while all Harry could think about was the first task, to take place Tuesday lunchtime in the place of afternoon classes, he was able to shove all the stress and nerves to one side on the Saturday before, which just so happened to be the first Hogsmeade weekend.

Harry had never visited Hogsmeade before, despite third years being given the option to visit. Unfortunately students required a permission slip to go, signed by a parent or guardian, and it hadn't been until the end of last year, when Harry had met his godfather, Sirius, that he'd had that permission. Consequently he was very excited.

"We'll go to Honeydukes first," Ron said animatedly as they walked down the front lawn to the gates of Hogwarts, having been checked by Argus Filch at the castle doors. "That's obviously where we should start. And then we'll go to the Three Broomsticks, and Quality Quidditch Supplies."

"We should show Harry the other shops too," Hermione said. "Like Gladrags Pokémon Ware and the Post Office." Ron let out a disbelieving snort.

"Yeah, right, Harry'll _really_ want to see that," he countered, rolling his eyes behind Hermione's back. "Those are definitely the places we want to visit."

"You know I can tell you're being sarcastic," Hermione shot back. Harry hadn't thought Ron was trying to hide it.

"You've got to see Honeydukes, it's the best," Ron continued, ignoring Hermione completely. "And the PFG store. You can buy booster packs, upgrade your figures, even play for the chance to win extremely rare pieces."

As Ron had so fervently suggested the first stop on their trip to the lovely little village of Hogsmeade was the sweet shop, Honeydukes. Harry was blown away by the selection they had on show. The shop wasn't big, no bigger than any other sweet shop really, but everywhere Harry looked there were new varieties of sweets and lollies, most of which Harry had never seen before in his life. He was dragged around the shop for about half an hour, Ron shoving various candies into his arms with comments like 'Gotta try these' and 'My mouth was numb for a month after eating this. Brilliant'.

Eventually they made it out of the sweet shop, Harry laden with what seemed like a little of everything they had on offer, and the three of them continued down the main street with the rest of the student body.

"Where should we go next?" Harry asked, looking around at his completely new surroundings.

"Quality Quidditch Supplies, of course," Ron said enthusiastically. Hermione, however, vetoed.

"It's really quite cold," she said, pulling her jacket more firmly around her. It was mid-November and there was just the first hints of frost on the ground, signalling it was likely to be a very cold winter.

"Why don't we get a butterbeer," Harry suggested, familiar with the feeling of warmth that the popular Pokémon brew brought. "You said we could get that here."

"The Three Broomsticks," Ron answered immediately. "Good idea." Hermione sighed.

"Here we go," she said tiredly, but did not clarify as the three of them walked a short distance down the road to a very popular looking building.

Warmth immediately washed over them as they walked inside and Harry was able to see that the pub, for that's what it was, was absolutely packed, mostly with Hogwarts students but there were a few people who stood out that Harry thought must be locals.

"I'll go get the drinks," Ron offered as they found a table right at the back, disappearing off quickly through the crowd. Hermione sighed again.

"He did this last time we were here," she explained to Harry, unwrapping the scarf from around her neck. "He's hopeless."

"Why?" Harry asked, confused.

Hermione just gave him a tired look. "Madam Rosmerta," she said, although her explanation ended there. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"She's the bartender," Hermione elaborated as Harry continued to stare at her. "She takes the orders and makes the drinks and she's very pretty, which is one of the reasons why the Three Broomsticks is so popular." Both Harry's eyebrows raised now.

"Ron likes her?" he guessed, knowing he'd hit the nail on the head.

"Yes," Hermione said exasperatedly. "But it's not like he can do anything about it. She's old enough to be his mother, I'm sure."

Their conversation was interrupted as Ron reappeared and Hermione quickly fell quiet.

"Did you order drinks?" Harry asked but Ron had a worried look on his face.

"Oh, yeah," he said, as though he'd completely forgotten. "Sorry, it's just… you'll never guess who I just saw at the bar."

"Who?" Hermione asked. Harry, however, craned his neck to peer past Ron towards where a bar ran along the length of the room. Behind it bustled about a woman, evidently beautiful, who Harry had to assume was Madam Rosmerta. Other than that there were a few Hogwarts students, including Fred and George's friend Lee Jordan, a tall man who looked like he had a head cold, and…

"Rita Skeeter," Ron said darkly, glancing over his shoulder to where she sat at the bar. Now that Harry looked he was surprised he hadn't noticed before. If Skeeter didn't stand out like a sour thumb, what with her tightly curled blonde hair and her bright red talon-like nails, then her photographer certainly did. He was taking up three seats at the bar, two with his girth and one with his incredibly clunky camera, and was smoking a huge black cigar, blowing smoke around the bar, much to Madam Rosmerta's annoyance.

"What's she doing here?" Harry asked, keeping a wary eye on the woman as he settled back in his seat. He was sure she wouldn't hesitate to come over and talk to him if she noticed he was there.

"I suppose she must be covering the first task for the Prophet," Hermione reasoned, though she looked anxious. "I would have thought they'd have sent someone else though."

"Fat chance," Ron argued. "The Prophet don't care when she's making stuff up. All they care about is that people keep on buying their stupid rag."

"Ron! The Daily Prophet is a fundamentally reliable source of news."

"Come off it Hermione, you read the article."

Harry ignored the argument brewing between his friends, instead taking the opportunity to look round the pub.

Most of the school seemed to be packed into the small space, Harry noticed. Dean and Seamus, Harry's dorm mates, had taken up seats at the bar next to Lee and Harry saw Ginny, Colin and Luna, Colin in particular looking completely in awe of his surroundings, sitting at a table nearby.

"Here you go," Madame Rosmerta appeared quite suddenly, the barmaid having been hidden in the crowd. "Three butterbeers." She placed three ice cold bottles down on the table between them before reaching for the glasses still sitting on her tray.

"We'll be taking these to go," Hermione said hurriedly, stopping Rosmerta short. Rosmerta was surprised for a moment, before a look of understanding crossed her face.

"It's that horrid woman, isn't it," she said, leaving them in no doubt who she was talking about. "Damn gossip monger. Why, I bet you I hear more rumours and accusations every day working here than she does in her line of work but do I say anything? - No." She let out a huff, before calming herself down.

"You're probably right to get away from her," she said, more calmly now. "Heaven knows she's looking for a story."

"Thank you, Madam Rosmerta," Hermione said gratefully, standing up and gathering up the scarf and coat she had only just taken off.

"Think nothing of it," Rosmerta shrugged it off. "I'm just sorry your day has been burdened by this. Have a good time today. And good luck for Tuesday, Mr Potter." She patted him on the shoulder before disappearing off into the crowd.

They left quickly, careful to keep their heads bowed just in case Skeeter looked their way, but were fortunately able to escape the Three Broomsticks without being spotted, huddling up against the cold as they walked outside.

"I can't believe this," Ron cursed, glaring at the door to the Three Broomsticks. "That witch! She ruins things even when she doesn't know about it."

"I agree," Hermione said distastefully. "What a horrible woman."

Harry glanced around, shivering slightly against the cold as the wind picked up. The main street was quite empty of people now, many of them having had the same idea as them to find somewhere warm inside.

"Lets get out of here," he said, drawing Ron and Hermione's attention. "I don't think we should be hanging around; knowing my luck Skeeter will walk out the door right now." Given the emptiness of the street she would spot them immediately.

"Where should we go?" Ron asked, looking around as though for inspiration.

"Somewhere far away," Hermione suggested. "Just in case."

"The Shrieking Shack?" Ron asked. Harry's eyebrows raised.

"The Shrieking Shack?"

* * *

The Shrieking Shack was a fair way out from the village itself, accessible through a winding path out the end of the main street of Hogsmeade. It was a decrepit place, a building that looked as though it should have been torn down years ago. The windows and doors were all boarded up and the tiles from the roof were scattered all over the place, leaving some large holes in the upper floor.

"So this is what it looks like from the outside," Harry muttered as the three of them stood some distance away, a gate blocking their access closer. "Looks even worse than from the inside."

Just last year Harry had been inside the Shrieking Shack, as had Ron and Hermione. It was there that they had met Sirius Black, had heard the truth about his past, and discovered the secret Scabbers the Rattata had been keeping for all these years.

"Easy to see why people think it's haunted," Ron said. "Even Fred and George won't go any closer."

They stood there for a while, staring out at the derelict building that meant more to them than it did to nearly anyone else. They stayed still and silent, not even flinching as a brisk wind swept past them, blowing their scarves around their faces.

That was until a voice broke their vigil.

"Well, well, look who it is." The voice of the last person - well, second last person - Harry wanted to see right now carried across to them and Harry, Ron and Hermione turned as one to see Draco Malfoy, flanked as usual by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, accompanied by his starter Pokémon Servine, smirking.

"House hunting, are we?" he drawled, briefly glancing in the direction of the shack. "I know Weasley doesn't have much in the way of gold but I would have thought with Potter and Granger pitching in you'd at least be able to afford something with a roof."

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed loudly and Malfoy looked pleased with himself. Harry wondered if he had waited to call their attention until he'd figured out his insult.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron growled, fists clenched angrily. Money was always a sore topic with him and today he wasn't in the mood to suffer any fools.

"Why?" Malfoy asked with a superior smirk, glad to have got Ron wound up. "You haven't closed the deal have you? I'm not standing on private property?" Again Crabbe and Goyle guffawed and Ron started forward angrily, his hand moving to his belt.

A low growl cut him short, causing everyone to go still.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked sharply. His eyes narrowed, all traces of humour gone. He glared across at Harry. "Is this you, Potter!?" He was answered by another growl, this one even louder, and from out of the trees the culprit stepped.

It was a Mightyena. A feral Mightyena. It stalked out from the trees, hackles raised, lips pulled back to show long, sharp fangs. Saliva dripped from its mouth as it stalked purposefully towards the Slytherins.

"Servine," Malfoy stammered, pointing his Pokémon forward. Servine showed no fear, standing protectively before his trainer.

The Mightyena gnashed its teeth, a sliver of saliva falling from his mouth to the ground below as it fixated its eyes on its new targeted. It let out a bark, a terrifying, feral sounding bark, and Servine's form became encased in red light, beaming out of existence and back into the Pokéball attached to Malfoy's belt.

Malfoy whimpered.

Mightyena licked its lips.

"Aggghhhhhh!" Malfoy yelled, turning tail and running flat out away from the terrifying visage. Crabbe and Goyle, slow on the uptake, took a moment to realise that their leader had gone before they too ran for it, Crabbe falling and tumbling into a hedge as he panicked.

Soon all three of the Slytherins were gone and the Mightyena turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione. They froze.

"Woof!" the Mightyena barked, its tail wagging suddenly like a windshield wiper, its tongue lolling out in a gesture eerily reminiscent of Fang. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"Woof!" Mightyena barked again, this time wandering forward and stopping in front of Harry, leaning its head up and trying to lick the surprised boy on the nose. The feeling of Mightyena's hot breath on his face snapped Harry out of it.

"Padfoot?" he questioned, looking down at the Mightyena. Mightyena barked again, this time rearing onto his hind legs and placing his paws on Harry's shoulders.

"Padfoot?" Ron questioned. "As in Sirius?"

"But what would Sirius be doing here?" Hermione questioned. "He's supposed to be on the run, isn't he?"

Mightyena barked again, dropping back down onto all fours and trotting off towards the trees, turning back to look at them. He waited patiently.

"I think he wants us to follow," Ron said, sounding highly amused. Now that the threat of Mightyena seemed to be averted the situation with Malfoy had suddenly become a lot more amusing.

"Should we?" Hermione questioned. Evidently she was worried about foul play. Harry smiled.

"That's Mightyena," he said firmly. "I know it." And he walked off, leaving his friends to follow in his wake as Mightyena bounded happily on ahead.

* * *

They walked for roughly fifteen minutes, first through the trees and then up the side of one of the mountains that surrounded the Hogwarts grounds. It was tough work, Mightyena happily bounding ahead before turning back as though to urge them to hurry up as they battled the climb that was much more challenging on only two legs. Higher and higher they went until they reached a small plateau, along with a gap in the rock face that Mightyena happily bounded through. As Harry followed he saw an Aerodactyl, lightly flapping his wings to remain balanced, a Purugly, looking bored as hell, a Gallade, standing resolute and silent, Mightyena, sitting looking pleased with himself, and lastly…

"Sirius!" Harry cried, rushing forward and throwing himself at the man without restraint. Sirius, smiling broadly, grabbed him back, squeezing him tightly as though they'd been separated for years rather than months.

"Jeez Pup, careful with the love," Sirius joked as he pulled Harry back to get a good look at him. "I'm still not the healthiest guy in the world, yeh know."

"Sorry," Harry said insincerely, grinning up at the ruggedly handsome man.

Sirius Black looked a lot different than he had the last time Harry had seen him. For one he was wearing clothes that were relatively clean and actually fit, rather than the rags he'd been dressed in after a year on the run. He was also a lot healthier looking, his face showing some signs of youth and less of the gaunt horror that Azkaban had bestowed upon him. And best of all he was smiling.

"Hermione! Ron! Good to see you," Sirius said, addressing the other two over Harry's head.

"Hi Sirius," said Ron cheerfully, already fully comfortable with him despite having hardly spoken to him before. Hermione was a bit more demure.

"Well, now that you're here," Sirius said, plonking himself down on a rock and sitting Harry down next to him. "Tell me, what's been happening around here?"

And so Harry told him everything. He told him about the Quidditch World Cup and the attack of the Staraptor, and how they had been saved by Viktor Krum. He told Sirius about the introduction of the Tri-Pokémon Tournament and the arrival of the delegations of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang and how he, Harry, had been chosen as a fourth champion. He told him about Skeeter's interview and the article that followed, the reaction of the rest of the school, and, at last, his surprise meeting with Charlie and what was to happen during the first task.

"I was hoping to get away from it all by visiting Hogsmeade," Harry admitted. "But then we saw Skeeter in the Three Broomsticks and Malfoy found us by the Shrieking Shack."

"Mightyena did a good job of taking care of that, though," Ron said with a grin.

"Did he?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow. He turned to his Pokémon. "Good boy." Mightyena wagged his tail proudly.

"Well, anyway, that's everything that's happened until Mightyena found us," Harry explained. "So what's going on with you? Why are you here?"

"Why? I'm not allowed to visit my favourite godson?" Sirius said, his face filled with mock hurt. Harry huffed.

"You know what I mean, Sirius," he replied. "You could be caught. They'd send you back to Azkaban, or worse." But Sirius was untroubled.

"Relax Harry," he said smoothly. "No one's going to find me. The Dusknoir are gone, aren't they, and no one has come up here in years. I should know, this was where I was staying last year when I wasn't on the castle grounds."

Harry looked around. The cave was completely empty, nothing more than a hole in the rock face, and Harry had to wonder just how uncomfortable it must have been for Sirius to have stayed here for so long, especially given how cold it could get.

"Anyway, there was something important I had to talk to you about," Sirius said and immediately Harry groaned.

"You're going to tell me not to compete, aren't you," Harry said. He had hoped that Sirius at least would have understood his need to prove himself.

Sirius, however, seemed taken aback.

"Not at all, I say go for it," he said with a grin. Harry and Ron grinned back. Hermione wasn't so pleased.

"Sirius," she complained. "Be reasonable."

"What?"

"Harry can't compete, you know that," she told him seriously.

"Why not?"

"You know why not," she said, frustrated. "We all know Harry's strong but the other champions have years of experience on him."

"So?" Sirius asked. "It's not like that's going to help them. I'm not sure what you know about the Tri-Pokémon Tournament Hermione but it isn't the same as going to classes and sitting exams. It's a test, the like of which most people will never have faced before."

"Which is perfect cause that's what Harry does," Ron added excitedly. Sirius nodded.

"I don't really know what it is the three of you have got up to in your time at Hogwarts but from what Remus has told me you've got yourself out of some pretty tight situations," Sirius said. "I don't know what was going on with Quirrel or the Chamber of Secrets but I do know that Harry saved me from certain death just a few months ago."

"With the help of Celebi," Hermione pointed out. "A legendary Pokémon."

"Who scarpered the moment it was scared by a ghost," Sirius pointed out. "And lets not even start on the fact you are friends with an actual real life ghost. I'm still struggling with the whole time travel thing as it is."

"But Sirius," Hermione complained desperately. She'd obviously been hoping that Sirius could have convinced Harry to drop out where she had failed. Unfortunately for her she had forgotten that Sirius was far from a responsible adult. He was a troublemaker, and a risk taker, and the only disappointment he seemed to have was that _he_ couldn't compete in the Tri-Pokémon Tournament.

Harry frowned.

"Sirius," he said thoughtfully. "If it wasn't to tell me not to compete in the tournament then what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" This at least seemed to distract Hermione from her complaints and together the three fourth year students looked to Sirius.

"Karkaroff," Sirius said. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"Professor Karkaroff?" Harry questioned. "What about him?"

"He's a death eater."

There was silence at Sirius's pronouncement. No-one moved or made a sound.

Then Ron burst out laughing.

"A death eater? Really?" he chortled. "Come on, you have to be kidding me."

But Sirius was deathly serious. "I mean it," he said simply and Ron stopped laughing, realising that Sirius was in fact not joking.

This time Hermione was the one to speak.

"Sirius," she said softly. "I'm sorry but that just can't be true. He's the Headmaster of Durmstrang. Do you not think that if he was a death eater then he would never have even been considered for the position? He would be in Azkaban instead, wouldn't he?"

"A lot of followers of Voldemort avoided Azkaban in the aftermath of the war," Sirius said with a hard voice. "Karkaroff was one of the few from Voldemort's inner circle to manage."

"But Sirius," Hermione said again. "Surely if he was a death eater then Dumbledore would know. He'd never allow a death eater onto the grounds of Hogwarts."

"You'd be surprised," Sirius countered but didn't expand on it.

"But Sirius…"

"Dumbledore knows full well Karkaroff's loyalties," Sirius told her. "And I can promise you he's keeping a close eye on him to make sure he isn't up to something. Why do you think Dumbledore called Moody out of retirement?"

That was a valid question and Harry was immediately brought back to the way Karkaroff had frozen at the sight of Moody. At the time he had thought it was just the natural intimidation factor that Moody gave off but perhaps there was something more.

"Alastor Moody is one of the greatest aurors to have ever lived," Sirius told them. "He's dedicated his life to fighting Voldemort and his death eaters and has put many of them behind bars. From what I hear Moody was the one to capture Igor Karkaroff."

Hermione gasped.

"Wait, you mean Karkaroff was actually caught?" Ron said, shocked. "Then why isn't he in Azkaban?"

Sirius shrugged. "The same reason Lucius Malfoy isn't in Azkaban," he answered darkly. "He bought his way out." Sirius sat back slightly, taking a breath. He'd been getting quite tense during the course of the conversation.

"Of course Karkaroff didn't have the money Malfoy did," Sirius told them, his voice slightly lighter now as he seemed to relax slightly. "Instead of trading gold and favours Karkaroff traded information. Instead of going to Azkaban himself he sent a whole lot of others in his place."

"And yet he still became Headmaster?" Hermione said in disbelief.

"Durmstrang has a bit of a reputation when it comes to these things," Sirius explained. "I'm not sure you'll have heard about Grindlewald, he was before even my time, but he was very much the same as Voldemort. He tried to take over the world, and would have too, had Dumbledore not stopped him."

"I have heard some references of him," Hermione admitted. "But not much in detail. He was around a long time ago."

"Yes, he was," Sirius agreed. "Anyway what's important is that Grindlewald wasn't British born. I don't know where he originated but with a name like Grindlewald you can probably imagine. So instead of going to Hogwarts, the foremost Pokémon trainer school in the world, he went to Durmstrang."

"That's where Grindlewald made a name for himself," Sirius told them. "That's where he honed his skills and gained followers. And even now, half a century after he was finally defeated, Durmstrang remains a dark place."

There was a pause as Sirius's words settled in the cave.

"So what are you saying?" Ron asked. "You think Karkaroff is out to get Harry?"

"I think it's possible," Sirius said. "I've been able to keep up with the news, somewhat, mostly through Remus, and the attack at the world cup isn't the only thing suspicious going on. There's been sudden disappearances and mysterious deaths. No one's really reporting on them, they can't put together the dots, but this is eerily similar to the way Voldemort first rose to power. It started like this."

"Of course I'm not saying it's definitely happening," Sirius said quickly at their ashen faces. "It could just be me being paranoid but either way you should probably keep an eye out for Karkaroff, just in case. And that deputy of his too. What's his name?"

"Stefanov," Hermione said quickly. "Dmitry Stefanov."

"Do you know him?" Harry asked quickly. Sirius shook his head.

"Mind that doesn't mean he's not a death eater," Sirius said quickly. "I didn't know all of them and most of the ones I did are well known. Dolohov, Mulciber, the Carrows, the LeStranges; they're all in Azkaban right now. And good thing too, that's a real twisted group of people I just listed." Harry shuddered. He didn't want to think about the crimes those people must have committed to end up in Azkaban.

Hermione glanced out the cave entrance.

"It's getting dark," she said, the cave itself noticeably darker without any form of light from within. "We should probably be heading back." Harry and Ron agreed, though reluctantly, and made to say their goodbyes, but Sirius brought Harry short.

"Before you leave I just need to tell you something," he said, grasping Harry on the shoulder to stop him from moving. Harry stopped and turned to him.

"It doesn't matter how well or badly you do in the first task," Sirius said, looking Harry straight in the eye. "I'm proud of you. Remus is proud of you. And I promise, wherever they are, your parents are proud of you."

Harry swallowed. "Right," he said thickly. Sirius understood.

"I'm going to be hanging around here for a bit," he told him, gesturing to the cave where his Pokémon were sitting patiently. "If you need anything, _anything_ , then just send word."

Harry couldn't be more grateful to hear that. For the last few weeks it seemed like everywhere he turned there was nothing but judgement and ridicule for his participation in the tournament. In Sirius Harry had what he realised most other children took for granted.

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's all for this chapter.

Before I say goodbye I'd just like to address the fact that the last chapter was quite short. When I write I don't write chapter by chapter. Instead I'll just right the scenes and break them up into chapters afterwards. That means that there will be some shorter chapters, unfortunately, simply because of where it makes sense to put in these breaks. However this does mean that other chapters will be longer so I hope it all balances out in the end.

Anyway, thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.


	11. The First Task

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The next couple of days were something of a personal hell for Harry. Despite, or perhaps even because of, Sirius's blessing Hermione had spent every available moment trying to convince Harry not to compete in the first task. And it was driving him mad.

On the Sunday he went back to training, Charmeleon being put through his paces by any Pokémon Harry could match him up against, Harry even going so far as to ask for Hagrid's help, Norbert the Shelgon being the closest thing to a fully evolved dragon type that Harry had available to him.

But Monday was the worst. While on Sunday Harry had eventually been able to ban Hermione from his training ground, much to the girl's annoyance, on Monday there was no such respite as Hermione accompanied him from class to class, whispering frantically in his ear at every moment with a most un-Hermione-like disregard for the rules. That, added to his own rising nervousness for the task ahead and the increased excitement flowing throughout the rest of the school, was causing Harry no end of worry as he looked forward with dread to the first task, which would be taking place at lunchtime the very next day.

Harry ate dinner in silence that evening, ignoring Hermione's constant stream of arguments as he did so, trying to block out everything as he could literally feel the excitement hanging in the air. It made him feel sick.

Eventually the time had come for him to leave and so, leaving Ron and Hermione behind at the Gryffindor table, Harry walked out into the Entrance Hall where he found the other three champions, as well as their respective heads of school, waiting for him.

"I see we're all here," Dumbledore noted as Harry walked over to them. "I see no reason to delay any longer." And he led them out onto the grounds.

It was pitch dark already, as befitting of late November in Scotland, and there was a fierce chill in the air. Fleur Delacour, in particular, looked incredibly uncomfortable as she walked alongside Madame Maxime while on the opposite side Krum slouched off with his usual silence, Karkaroff striding purposefully beside him.

No one spoke as they walked, and Harry wondered if the other champions were feeling as nervous as he was. Although, surely, they couldn't possibly be worried about being completely outdone by their competitors. Harry knew the three older students, even including Cedric, did not consider him a real champion. Their burden was for their schools, not themselves.

The walk was a longer one than Harry had anticipated, automatically expecting them to be taken quite close to the castle, but it was only once they'd passed by Hagrid's hut that Harry realised they were heading into the forest.

The trees were spaced decently far apart behind Hagrid's hut, not as closed in as it was deeper in the forest, but still the group had to turn and travel in pairs as Dumbledore led the way forward, clearly the only one who knew where they were heading.

A muffled roar sounded through the trees and everyone jumped, Harry almost falling as his foot found an exposed root only for Cedric to reach out and catch him.

Harry didn't have the time to thank him, however, for everyone's attention was already focused purely on the cause of that terrible sound. They couldn't see it, they still had not broken through the line of the trees, but they must be close. Other sounds could be heard now, sounds of figures moving and the shout of human voices, punctuated every few moments by more fearsome roars.

They finally broke through the line of trees and Harry briefly had a moment of deja-vu. Standing before them was a stadium, reminding Harry very much of the stadium for the Quidditch World Cup, although on second look it was a good bit smaller, having to only account for the student populace rather than the thousands of Quidditch fanatics who'd been there to watch Ireland take home the cup.

They didn't stop at the stadium. Instead Dumbledore led them round the side, hugging the wall as he walked away from where the entrance sat and round towards the back of the arena, where the ground fell away into a deep valley. Harry was not prepared for what he saw.

Dragons. Four, huge, monstrous Pokémon were sitting below them, chained up in four separate corners of the valley below, people running around between them, shouting instructions to each other, dressed in so much protective gear that Harry wouldn't have been able to recognise them even if he'd known them for years. But Harry didn't spend much time looking at the handlers.

Out of the four monstrous Pokémon, the first to catch Harry's eye, was the Garchomp. It was the loudest, and from the looks of it the most vicious, bearing its teeth and screeching at the other Pokémon in the enclosure. A Druddigon to the right was retorting in kind, though it seemed a fair bit smaller than the dual Dragon and Ground type and so Garchomp was paying it little to no attention.

On Garchomp's other side was a Noivern. It was silent, though watchful, its beady eyes following the handlers around as they went about their work, giving Harry the impression that it was sizing them up for dinner. He was almost tempted to yell out a warning to the seemingly oblivious workers.

Yet Noivern also wasn't the Pokémon Garchomp was facing off against, and as Harry turned to the last Pokémon below, almost seeming to blend into the background, he soon forgot about Noivern, and indeed Druddigon too. For the last Pokémon was not a Dragon type.

It was a Charizard.

And that wasn't where the surprises ended. Unlike Charlie's Charizard, which had mostly orange skin, this Charizard was jet black. It was silent, like Noivern, yet the way it held itself showed that it held no fear of any of the other Pokémon, not even Garchomp. It faced the dragon type steadily, staring it down and not flinching even as Garchomp screeched at him and gnashed its teeth viciously.

"Whew, you lot are early." Ludo Bagman had appeared, wiping sweat away from his brow with a handkerchief, and he hurried up to them. "Guess you have a fair idea of what is going on then? Come on, into the tent."

He led them a small way along the edge of the gorge, glancing nervously down as the dragons' eyes followed them, to where a large tent had been erected, walking through the entrance and leading the others inside.

"Here they are, Barty," Bagman said cheerfully. "Ahead of schedule." Barty Crouch, standing at the far end of the tent, nodded sharply but didn't say anything. As always when Harry saw Mr Crouch he thought he looked ill, but then he realised he'd never seen Mr Crouch otherwise. Perhaps this was just how he normally looked.

"Alright, well, gather in here. Lets get cracking," Bagman said enthusiastically. "I take it you've all spotted our dragons," he said, chuckling to himself at his little joke. "So I'm pretty sure you all have an idea of what it is you are going to be challenged to do for the first task."

Bagman walked over to a small, foldaway table that had been set up in the middle of the tent, picking up a small, golden ring that Harry was only too familiar with.

"I'm sure I don't need to explain what this is," Bagman chortled, giving a wink to Viktor Krum. Krum didn't respond. "This is the Golden Snitch and, like in any game of Quidditch, the aim of this task is to retrieve it."

Harry felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. Quidditch he could do, he was good at that. Beside him he felt more than saw Cedric let out a sigh of relief and Krum, though he gave no outward reaction, must have been dancing with joy inside. Fleur wasn't looking so happy. Harry guessed she must not play much Quidditch.

"But of course it's not that simple," Bagman said, drawing Harry's attention back to him. "No, instead of facing off against each other to get the snitch you will be tasked with getting past a dragon each, and trust me, these are no shrinking violets." Bagman laughed again.

"Perhaps we can go over the rules," Dumbledore suggested pleasantly and Harry glanced over. Though he was keeping a completely impartial expression on his face Harry was sure that he was exceedingly happy with what the first task was going to be. Both his champions were Seekers.

"Eh, yes, good idea Dumbledore," Bagman agreed. "Barty, want to do the honours?" Harry wondered if Bagman even knew the rules as he looked hopefully behind him to where Mr Crouch was standing.

At first Crouch didn't respond but then he nodded his head sharply and approached the table, his expression business like.

"Each Champion will have use of precisely one of their Pokémon," Crouch said stiffly. "If this Pokémon is knocked out the task is over and they will be graded based on their performance until that point, taking into account the fact they failed to complete the challenge. Points will be awarded based on speed of capture, success of tactics, and choice of Pokémon with which the challenger chooses to take on the task. The marks will be out of fifty, with each judge giving a mark out of ten."

"Is that all then, Barty?" Bagman intervened as Crouch came to a sudden stop. Crouch nodded swiftly. "Well then, I guess we'll see you here tomorrow. The task starts at twelve o'clock. Don't be late."

The champions were led back out of the tent by their heads of schools, each lost in their own thoughts as they reappeared in the darkened forest. The dragons were still there, still bellowing at each other and thrashing around. Harry gulped.

"Well, it seems like we've got all we need," Dumbledore said amicably. "Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff, perhaps you would both join me in my office for a quick drink. It would be nice to talk openly with each other on the eve of the tournament."

"I zink zat would be lovely," Madame Maxime answered. "Igor, you would join us, non?"

Karkaroff didn't look particularly keen on the idea but he quickly rearranged his features. "Of course," he replied. "Just try and stop me." Despite his words it didn't sound like Karkaroff much wanted to join them and Harry had to think back to what Sirius had told him. If Karkaroff really was a death eater then no wonder he'd want to avoid Dumbledore.

"Still here, are you?" Bagman had appeared, Crouch ghosting out behind him and quickly disappearing into the trees. "I'm sure you want to get a good look at the Pokémon you'll be facing but a good night's rest is always in order. Got to be ready for the task."

Bagman left them too, leaving the four champions standing alone as they stared into the valley containing the Pokémon. Despite the warmth in the air, given off by the many warm bodies and the Charizard's tail, Harry shivered.

"I wonder if they can keep them under control," Cedric spoke, looking down at the Pokémon. "They don't appear to have Pokéballs." That was a concern. After all, the tournament had been stopped due to deaths in the past.

"The handler vill know vot to do," Krum said simply, surprising Cedric by answering. "They are vell trained." Silence fell among the champions again.

"I'm going to bed," Fleur announced, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turned from the dragons.

"That's probably a good idea," Cedric agreed as Fleur walked off. "You coming Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm going to stay for a bit," he told him. Cedric glanced back at the Pokémon before nodding.

"See you tomorrow," he said, clapping Harry on the shoulder before he too left. Now it was only Harry and Krum.

They stood there for maybe ten minutes, watching as the handlers did their best to calm the dragons down for the night, before Krum suddenly turned on his heel and walked away.

"Wait," Harry said, turning after him. "Vikt- er, Krum?"

Krum paused. He was still turned away from Harry so he couldn't see his face but the fact that the Bulgarian was no longer moving was encouraging.

"Just call me Viktor," Krum said shortly, turning to face Harry. This was the most Harry had heard him say since the world cup.

"Viktor," Harry said, the name seeming awkward as it came off his tongue. "Sorry, I just… I wanted to say…. Do you remember the World Cup?" It sounded like a stupid question considering Krum's role in the match but the flicker in Krum's eye let Harry know he knew what he meant.

"I do," he said shortly. "I remember it vell."

"You do?" Harry said, relieved. "It's just that… since then it's been like you've been avoiding me. I thought you might not have recognised me." Krum shuffled. He seemed uncomfortable.

"I recognised you," he said.

"Then why?"

"I vas not avoiding you," he said curtly. "There is many students in this castle and I spend most of my time in the ship."

Harry paused. "I don't think I believe you," he said and he meant it. There was just something about the way Krum was talking to him, something in the way he held himself and the way his words came out short and unexpressive. It was like he had something to hide.

Krum, however, had had enough. "Believe vot you vant," he said stiffly, turning to leave.

"Wait," Harry called again and again Krum came to a step. "I'm sorry, I just…" he took a breath, giving him a moment to figure out what he wanted to say. "I wanted to thank you, for what you did that night."

Krum shrugged. "It vas nothing," he said simply. Harry ignored it.

"Well, I just wanted to thank you properly," he explained. "Even if you think it was nothing you helped me out a lot and I won't forget that. I just wonder… why did you leave so quickly?" Krum shifted and Harry realised he was definitely uncomfortable with the question.

"It does not do to be seen helping Harry Potter," Krum said. Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"Why?" he asked, bewildered. From what he could tell Krum would only have been more loved if people discovered he'd saved the 'Boy-who-lived'.

Krum was silent for a long time. He was looking at Harry with a thoughtful expression on his face and Harry could only wonder as to what was going through his mind. In the end Krum made his decision, turning fully to face him.

"Var is a terrible thing," he said, fixing his eyes straight on Harry. "It is not easy or clean and it takes many casualties. In Britain, ven the Dark Lord vas defeated the var vas von. In Bulgaria, it stopped." Harry frowned.

"So you mean," Harry said, trying to piece together what Krum was trying to tell him. "The Death Eaters… are they still there?" Krum neither nodded nor shook his head.

"I have family," he said simply. "I must keep them safe." He turned away as he said that and walked off into the forest, clearly having said all he was going to, leaving Harry standing alone, the four dragons roaring behind him and more mysteries before him than he could possibly comprehend.

* * *

Harry didn't sleep that night. He tried, he tried really hard, but every time he closed his eyes the image of the dragons would appear before him. He remembered their ferociousness, the sharp teeth and gleaming eyes, and he could not help but feel dread at the thought of having to face one of these beasts in just twelve short hours.

His lack of rest was clearly noticeable the next day as Ron and Hermione accompanied him down to breakfast. That may have been the reason Hermione waited until they were seated at the Gryffindor table before starting on her one last bid to stop him from competing.

"It's not too late," she told him from across the table. "You can still pull out. Nobody would think any less of you."

"Well, that's a lie," Ron said, saving Harry from responding. "Malfoy would be insufferable."

"Who cares what Malfoy thinks," Hermione said angrily, surprising the two boys with her vehemence. "All that matters is you, Harry. I'm begging you, don't do this."

"Hermione," Ron interjected, sounding quite frustrated. "Could you just quit it? Harry's doing this and you trying to get him to drop out the morning of the first task isn't helping. Come on, just get behind him already."

"But," Hermione said, looking desperately between the two of them, and then she burst into tears.

"Er," Ron said awkwardly, looking at a complete loss as to what to do as Hermione's eyes welled with tears beside him. "Eh, there there." If it hadn't been for Harry's concern for Hermione he would have laughed.

"I just… don't want…" Hermione stammered through her tears. "You can't do this. You've got to be safe. Just… promise me you won't get hurt Harry. Promise me you won't take risks."

Harry felt as though someone had reached out and taken a grip of his heart, squeezing tightly. He'd always known that Hermione was only trying to stop him from competing out of fear for his own wellbeing, he'd never doubted that. To see how much this had been weighing on her since halloween was heartbreaking.

"Hey, Hermione," he said softly, drawing her attention as she tried to wipe at her still teary eyes. "I promise. I won't do anything stupid." Hermione looked as though she were going to break down again at these words but she pulled herself together, nodding her head gratefully.

"Yeah, no need to worry," Ron added. "Harry's faced ancient Seviper and armies of Dusknoir, some measly Garchomp is a piece of cake." The statement was so ridiculously that Harry couldn't help but laugh. Hermione gave a watery smile.

Despite the task taking place that day morning classes were still being held. Harry, however, was quickly convinced by Ron not to go, and on this occasion Hermione agreed with him.

Instead Harry spent the time in his dormitory, finally getting some modicum of rest with the comfort of having Ron and Hermione looking out for him. He was still nervous, incredibly so, but to have both his best friends by his side and supportive helped steady him. He knew what he had to do and what's more he knew he could do it. And that was half the battle.

* * *

At roughly eleven o'clock Hermione and Ron roused Harry from his sleep and together the three of them walked down through the empty castle. Classes were due to finish at any moment, in fact the bell rang before they'd made it all the way down to the bottom, but they were left mostly untroubled by passing students who were too excited by the prospect of the first task to pay him any attention.

When he got to the Entrance Hall he found Professor McGonagall waiting for him.

"Mr Potter," she said crisply upon seeing him. Harry walked down to join her.

"I'll see you guys later," Harry said, turning back to Ron and Hermione. They wished him luck, Hermione throwing herself on him in a quick hug, before they left, walking into the Great Hall for a quick lunch before they joined the rest of the students on their way down to the arena.

"This way, Potter," McGonagall said, gesturing him out the front doors. Harry followed silently, feeling his nerves start to come back in full force now that Ron and Hermione were gone. He patted his belt nervously, feeling the Pokéballs of Charmeleon, Fletchinder and Pikachu safely attached, and drew comfort at the fact he had his Pokémon by his side.

Out on the grounds there was only a few eager students who weren't willing to wait, mostly carrying small flags of yellow and black in support of the Hufflepuff champion. He didn't see any red and gold.

As they walked down the lawn Harry became aware of a new structure he had not seen the night before. A large wooden board had been hammered into the ground and stood facing out so that people passing between Hogwarts Castle, the Beauxbatons Carriage, and the Durmstrang Ship could read it. The Champions' names were listed in the order they'd been chosen on halloween, with Fleur Delacour at the top and Harry at the bottom. Sitting by each name was a small placard with the number zero imprinted upon it.

"The scoreboard," McGonagall explained, though Harry had already guessed. "It will be updated after every task." Harry just nodded, though he felt his innards squirm at the thought. _Just focus on today_ , his inner Hermione told him and he shoved his doubts to the back of his mind.

McGonagall led Harry the same way Professor Dumbledore had before, past Hagrid's cabin and on into the forest. In the light of day the stands were clearly visible over the tops of the trees, allowing the students to easily find their way, and that was the guide Harry and McGonagall followed, all the way up until the end.

Like before Harry's final destination wasn't the entrance to the stadium. However, instead of travelling around to the left, McGonagall took Harry right and he found himself next to a hastily constructed outhouse, sticking out from the main stadium and covered only by a canvas door.

McGonagall led him inside.

"Ah ha, the last of the champions," Ludo Bagman exclaimed excitedly. Indeed the remaining three champions were already there, Cedric standing with Professor Sprout, who smiled at Harry, Krum accompanied by Professor Stefanov, and Fleur on her own. Clearly the respective heads were required to be in the stadium already.

"Well, now we're all here lets get cracking then, shall we," Bagman said gleefully, clapping his hands together. None of the champions looked anywhere near as happy as he did. Even Krum looked a bit pale.

"Before we start the task," Bagman said, as he did so pulling a small string-tied bag from his pocket. "We must first decide which Pokémon each of you will be facing. We had a little talk with those marvellous fellows at PFG and they were so kind as to create personalised figures for just this occasion. In this bag," he shook the bag, causing each of the champions to stare at it, "are four figures, each representing one of the Pokémon you could face. Also, on these limited edition figures are numbers on the base. This is what will decide the order in which you will be sent out to complete your task." Bagman paused.

"Lets see," he said, studying the bag in his hand. "Yes, Ms Delacour, why don't you go first. It's only polite, gentlemen." He winked at Harry, Cedric and Krum before offering the bag to Fleur.

Fleur looked pale as she placed her hand into the bag and a second later she had taken hold of a figure and pulled it out. It was Garchomp.

"Ooh, Garchomp for Ms Delacour," Bagman said dramatically, looking as though he was enjoying every minute of this. "A tough draw I think. Now, Mr Krum, you next."

Krum wasted no time in choosing his figure. In a moment he'd reached in and plucked the figure from within, holding it out in the palm of his hand. He had picked the Druddigon.

"Fascinating, Krum against the Druddigon," Bagman announced, though everyone could clearly see the figure and did not need to be told. "And now for the Hogwarts champions. Mr Diggory, why don't we start with you and then round things off with our mercurial Mr Potter."

Cedric gave a weak smile at Bagman's words which quickly dropped from his face as he looked towards the bag. Harry waited with bated breath to see what Cedric pulled out, knowing that whatever was left would be for him to face, and that there was one Pokémon he'd really rather avoid.

Cedric pulled his hand out of the bag and immediately let out a sigh of relief. Harry's stomach dropped. Cedric had pulled out the Noivern.

"And I think we all know what's left for Mr Potter," Bagman said in a hushed voice. He was practically vibrating from excitement and Harry felt sick as he reached into the bag and pulled out the jet black Charizard.

"And there we have it," Bagman announced, shocking Harry as his voice rose back to a normal level. "You've each been paired up with the Pokémon you are about to face. Now, who's first," Fleur revealed the bottom of her figure, showing the number one. "Ms Delacour. Now, when the horn sounds…" And at that moment a foghorn sounded.

"Great Scott, I'm late," Bagman cried, jumping up and down as though unable to figure out what to do with himself. "Right, when the horn sounds again you walk down this corridor and into the arena. Best of luck." Bagman bounced out of the room, running back out into the light of the outside rather than into the tunnel, and disappeared from view.

"Good luck," McGonagall said briskly, looking at Harry. Elsewhere Professor Sprout was patting Cedric's arm in a motherly gesture while Professor Stefanov spoke to Krum in low tones. Fleur sat alone.

Soon McGonagall, Sprout and Stefanov had all exited the tent too and, within a few moments, the horn sounded. Fleur, looking quite green, stood up on slightly shaky legs and disappeared towards the tunnel.

"Welcome, everyone, to the first task!" Bagman's voice boomed over them, indicating that, like at he world cup, he would be commentating on the event. "I'm sure you're all aware of the challenge the champions have been set and are ready for us to begin! First up, Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons against Garchomp!"

A large cheer went up at the announcement, although whether it was a cheer for Fleur or for Garchomp wasn't clear, and Harry could only imagine how Fleur must be feeling. Garchomp had been the most vicious of the dragons and Fleur was up against it first off.

"And here comes Ms Delacour and she'll be using… a Gardevoir! Smart choice, Gardevoir is part fairy type which of course are immune to - I don't believe it! She's done it!" A roar of sound erupted from the stadium and Harry looked up in shock. How could Fleur possibly have completed the task already?

"An unbelievable performance from Ms Delacour! What a start!" Bagman was yelling. "I hope the boys in the back are ready! I'm sure they weren't expecting for the next champion to be called upon so quickly!"

Harry's eyes widened and he quickly turned over his figure to make sure he wasn't next up. He wasn't. A number four was emblazoned on the bottom of his figure.

"I'm next," Cedric said, showing his figure, though he seemed to be saying it more for his own benefit than anyone else's as Bagman announced that the judges were about to give their scores. "Wish me luck."

Harry tried to do just that, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing came out and he closed it again. Cedric understood. There was no way any of them could be ready to deal with this.

"Well that's sure one way to start a tournament!" Bagman's voice reverberated around the room. "And now for the first Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory!" A huge cheer, easily dwarfing the one for Fleur and Garchomp, erupted from the crowd and Cedric seemed to draw heart from it, straightening his back as he walked out of the room and down the small tunnel, leaving Harry and Krum alone.

Harry did not know how Fleur had completed the task so quickly but Cedric was clearly finding it harder. It was hard to know what was going on, unable to see Cedric face off against Noivern, and Bagman's commentary was only providing snippets of what was going on.

"Oof, close one there!" he'd announce, though close to what Harry didn't know. "Ice Fang from Feraligatr! Good bring!"

Eventually a huge cheer erupted from the stadium and Bagman announced that Cedric had completed the task. Again scores were given, though not aloud which, whether by design or accident, left Harry and Krum in the dark.

"Next up, Mr Krum!" Bagman boomed and Krum stood up almost robotically, moving to stand at the tunnel's entrance.

"Good luck," Harry wished him as the horn went. Krum turned his head slightly so that Harry could see the outline of his face. He gave a sharp nod, then he stepped out into the tunnel.

The wait in the champions room was the longest Harry had ever had to suffer through. How long Krum was actually taking in comparison to Cedric was hard to say as time seemed to slow to a crawl, the only thing Harry could hear, other than the roar of the crowd and Bagman's excited commentary, being the constant tick of the clock.

Harry looked down at the figure in his hand. He had not wanted this figure. Indeed, he would rather have taken his chances with Garchomp than with Charizard. Despite Garchomp's obvious strength and brutality it was Charizard's calculating gaze that brought fear to Harry's heart. Charizard had held no fear of Garchomp in the enclosure and Harry knew it was because Charizard knew it was stronger than any of the dragons there.

The crowd roared and Bagman shouted and Harry knew that Krum had completed his task. He stood up, preparing himself mentally for the walk down the tunnel, as he waited for Krum to receive his scores. He stood at the entrance, his body projecting calm that he was not feeling at all on the inside, as Bagman finally called out his name and the horn sounded.

The tunnel was longer than Harry had expected. Either that or time was moving slower now that Harry was about to face his challenge. He followed the tunnel's darkness, not able to see much more than the wooden supports on either side, first round to the left along the stadium's edge and then forward to the arena within.


	12. Charizard

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

As he stepped out into the light he was faced by a tremendous roar. All around the stadium students were standing up and yelling, in support of him or of Charizard it was hard to tell. The light obscured his vision as he stepped outside and in the brief moment it took to adjust to the new light he stood there, unmoving.

The first sight he saw when his eyes had cleared was the Charizard. It was just as dark as he remembered, even in the light of day, yet now its features were more clear. It was watching him with a tantalising gaze, sizing him up with the sort of calm surety of a creature at the top of the food chain.

Harry's eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for where he was meant to stand. On one side of the arena he saw the judges seated, watching him intently, Bagman holding his megaphone to his mouth in anticipation of any move Harry made. On the other side sat his fellow champions. They each looked tired, but unharmed, and Harry drew strength from that fact.

But there was nowhere for him to stand. He was meant to be right down here alongside his Pokémon.

The Charizard let out a low growl. It had clearly grown tired of waiting. In the stands, too, Harry could hear the first rumblings of discontent. He grasped a Pokéball.

For the longest time he had assumed that Charmeleon would be joining him for this task. Even when he became aware of the portion where they were meant to catch the snitch he still felt that Charmeleon was best suited to match up against the Pokémon.

But the moment Cedric had revealed his figure and Harry had realised he would be facing Charizard Harry knew he could not use Charmeleon. Charmeleon was strong, the strongest on Harry's team, but against a Charizard he simply could not match up. There was only one option.

"Go, Fletchinder!" He cried, releasing his flying and fire type Pokémon. Fletchinder took to the air in glee, swooping through the sky with serene grace. The sky was where Fletchinder lived. It was his home.

But he'd need more than that to beat Charizard. Already Charizard had tensed its body, flaring its wings to reveal blood red underneath. It was ready to launch into the sky.

"Fletchinder, Quick Attack!" Harry called. Fletchinder shot forward on command, showing no signs of rust as he aimed to swoop past an unsuspecting Charizard.

But Charizard was more than aware of Harry's plan. The enormous Pokémon slammed a clawed fist into the ground and large rocks sprung up, forcing Fletchinder to veer off course and rise quickly to avoid them.

"Fletchinder, look out!" Harry shouted as Charizard launched itself after him. Fletchinder was quick to twist out of the way of Charizard's brutal swipe, and immediately he looked to take advantage of the attack to make a move for the snitch. But a swipe from Charizard's tail forced him to veer off and again he found himself trapped behind Charizard in his pursuit of the snitch.

Down on the ground Harry was thinking hard. Despite Charizard's obvious skill and power Harry felt Fletchinder still held the advantage in the air and he drew courage from the fact that Charizard wasn't simply going to sit in front of the snitch and force him to knock him out. This was a game of Quidditch, and Harry was good at Quidditch.

The problem was that Charizard was proving a much more challenging opponent than Harry had expected. Fletchinder continued to nip in and around the fire type, diving and twisting to avoid the dangerous swipes from the larger Pokémon, but he was struggling to find a way past him.

And in the back of Harry's mind he couldn't help but think about Fletchinder's injury. How long could he keep this up for?

Fletchinder dived again, this time dodging a Fire Blast attack rather than making a play for the snitch. Charizard dropped down with him, watching his flight carefully so as to be sure that he wouldn't get the snitch. It was being tactical.

Charizard's tail swung out, forcing Fletchinder into another turn which almost brought him into a collision course with Charizard's claws, pumped up with a Dragon Claw attack, before he jerked out the way again.

And then he flinched.

It was a tiny gesture, barely noticeable to the hundreds of students watching, but it was deadly. The remnants of his old injury kept Fletchinder in one place for too long and within a moment he was engulfed in fire.

"Fletchinder!" Harry cried out desperately, watching as Charizard's Fire Blast made contact from close range. His mind flashed back to one year ago on the Quidditch pitch when he'd been forced to watch Fletchinder struck by lightning and crash to a grisly and uncertain fate.

 _Please, not again._

And then there was light. Harry had to raise a hand to protect his eyes as they were suddenly assaulted from the glow of Fletchinder's form. Yet he refused to look away, recognising what was happening before anyone in the crowd could.

"Talon!"

The fire burst into a thousand embers, the white light dispersing too, as Fletchinder rose like a phoenix from the ashes in a brand new form. He was a Talonflame.

"Duck!" Harry shouted, recovering quicker than anyone as Charizard made a swipe for the newly evolved Pokémon.

Talonflame did as commanded, swooping beneath the glowing fist and twisting to circle underneath Charizard's wing joint. He bobbed and weaved as Charizard's tail lashed out, expertly navigating his way past the dangerous creature, the snitch now in his sight.

"Bear right!" Harry shouted as a blast of fire flew after his Pokémon. Talonflame obeyed without hesitation, swooping out of the line of fire with ease as he twirled through the air, giving the Charizard a difficult target to hit as it attacked from behind.

Claws, jaws, tails and blasts of fire followed after Talonflame but he dodged them all, twisting and turning through the air with the grace of a ballet dancer. He rose above another swiping claw, twisted from a set of fiery jaws, and dived down to finally snatch the snitch from the pole on which it rested.

He had done it.

It took awhile for Harry to really be able to savour the triumph as Charizard was not going down quietly. Gone was the quiet calculation and the supreme confidence it had shown before. It snapped its jaws angrily at Talonflame, trying to go after him and being held back by the dragon tamers that immediately appeared on the scene.

It took a good time for the handlers to force the Charizard to calm down, in which time Talonflame had managed to make his way back to Harry and alighted on his arm.

"Talonflame," Harry said, his voice soft as he gently stroked the bird Pokémon's great plumage. Talonflame looked regal, and proud, and Harry felt the exact same way. His Fletchinder had always been a proud Pokémon and it had taken him a long time to get that back. Now he had.

"At last! We can continue!" Bagman's voiced boomed out over the arena, causing Harry to turn. "Thanks for the help! Lets just take a moment to express our gratitude to the dragon handlers!"

There was a small round of applause in the stands at those words. The taming of Charizard had been a piece of entertainment all on its own.

"Great! Now that that's all dealt with we can move onto the scores from the judges! Judges, if you would!"

Harry had not seen how the judges showed their scores, the judges having done it silently for the other three champions, and so he waited patiently as they made their verdict.

On the far left of the line of judges was Madame Maxime. She reached down to something out of Harry's line of sight and pulled out a scorecard and held it up in the air. She'd given him an eight.

A round of applause followed Maxime's score before quickly falling silent again as the next judge, Mr Crouch, revealed his score. He too gave an eight.

Again there was applause and Harry tried to guess from the volume how good this score was shaping up to be. He had no idea what the other champions had been awarded. But eights were certainly encouraging.

Dumbledore went next, holding up a nine. Harry felt a smile cross his face. Perhaps Dumbledore added points for Fletchinder's recovery over the last year.

Harry almost missed Bagman, bouncing excitedly in his seat, also give him a nine, before Professor Karkaroff, the last judge in line, gave Harry a six.

Well, Harry thought wryly. Maybe Karkaroff was a death eater, or maybe not, but he certainly didn't like Harry.

* * *

"Congratulations!"

They'd returned to the champions room, now much more light and airy as the doorway was left clear and the four champions were able to relax. Cedric was next to Harry, standing by a small table upon which Talonflame was perched, receiving a thorough checkover from Madam Pomfrey.

"Thanks Cedric," Harry said gratefully. Cedric had always been very supportive when it came to Fletchinder and now that he'd evolved Harry felt he owed Cedric for that support.

"I didn't get to see your challenge," Harry told him. "How'd you do?" Cedric shrugged.

"Hard to tell really, I was just too glad to have done it to pay attention to the scores," Cedric replied.

He was quickly distracted by some new arrivals. Ron and Hermione had clearly rushed over to see him the first instant they could and they were joined by Cho Chang, who quickly attracted Cedric's attention.

Ron punched Harry in the arm.

"Blimey mate, that was brilliant," he said, a wide grin on his face. "That was…"

"Incredible," Hermione finished for him, looking quite flushed from the run over. She too was smiling. "And congratulations on Fletchinder evolving."

"Yeah, that too," Ron agreed. "What is he now?"

"A Talonflame," Hermione said immediately, preventing Harry from doing so himself.

"Right," Ron noted. "Awesome."

They waited a moment longer while Madam Pomfrey completed her check of Talonflame's health before she straightened up.

"I've got good news," she said, and Harry's heart soared even higher. "I can find no trace of Fletchinder's injury in Talonflame. It seems like the strength from evolution healed all structural damage. I see no reason why we should have to worry about Talonflame's condition in the slightest."

The news was just the cherry on top of the cake of what had been a very good day. Harry was so happy that he barely noticed Bagman bound in excitedly and barely listened as Bagman told them that the second task wouldn't be until February. All that mattered was that he had Talonflame by his side.

On the walk back Ron and Hermione explained what he had missed.

"Fleur was amazing, she really was," Ron told him. "She used her Gardevoir and the Garchomp, he was gnashing his teeth and everything. Then Gardevoir just disappeared and reappeared right behind it, stole the snitch, and was back with Fleur in a second."

"It was the perfect performance," Hermione agreed. "Though she only got forty-seven points."

"How?" Harry questioned.

"Karkaroff," Ron scowled. "Bloody cheat. Said that Fleur had an unfair advantage having Gardevoir so would only give her seven. The rest of the judges thought she was perfect."

"He was rather biased, wasn't he," Hermione agreed. "He gave Viktor Krum ten."

"Was he good?"

"He wasn't that good," Ron told him. "Used his Staraptor and flew around for a bit. He got forty points in total, same as you. Look," he pointed ahead to where the scoreboard was standing. Already it had been updated, a small gathering having formed to look at the scores. At the top, head and shoulders above the rest, was Fleur Delacour with forty-seven points, whilst Harry and Krum were indeed tied for second with forty. Cedric sat at the bottom, only thirty-six points to his name.

"What happened with Cedric?" Harry asked, surprised to find he'd outscored the older Hufflepuff boy.

"He wasn't very good, was he," Ron said with a grin. Clearly he felt vindicated by Harry out performing the school's favourite champion.

"He did alright," Hermione said, not quite sharing Ron's grudge. "He just struggled to get past Noivern. His Feraligatr kept on having to dodge attacks and it took a long time before his Ice Fang had enough of an effect to let him through."

"That doesn't matter to you though," Ron said boisterously. "You should be looking up, not down. Two tasks to go to catch up with Fleur. Ready?"

Harry grinned.

* * *

Later that night, when the whole castle had gone to bed and the sky was pitch black, Harry released Talonflame out of his dormitory window, the newly evolved Pokémon heading for the distant lights of Hogsmeade.

With Talonflame was a small note, which simply read:

 _One down, two to go._


	13. Dean's Daring

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The response to Harry's performance in the first task was exactly as Charlie had predicted. Immediately the whole school was behind Harry as though they had never even doubted his legitimacy as champion, barring the Slytherins of course. It was such a relief, after the stress of the last month, to finally get back to something that approached normal.

Of course things couldn't stay that way for long. In Harry's life when things were going too well there was always a wrench to be thrown into his plans, a spanner in the works. In this occasion said spanner was one Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter.

During the task Harry had not seen Skeeter, had in fact not even realised she was there, which turned out to be because Dumbledore had cut off all access she had to the champions. Instead Skeeter had been forced to report from the stands, working under the watchful eye of Hagrid.

Of course Skeeter had taken her revenge. A few days after the first task, after her mostly factual and unexciting retelling of the task itself, Skeeter came out with what she described as a news piece, which took up the whole of the front page of the morning Prophet.

It was anything but news. The piece, which was filled with more conjecture than actual fact, detailed the sordid story of Hagrid's role in the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, leaving out most of the crucial facts, such that it had now been confirmed the perpetrator was actually Lord Voldemort, and going on wild, and unflattering, tangents.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were furious, Hermione especially as, on top of her anger for Hagrid, she also took it as an affront to journalistic integrity. But the worst of their anger came when they had their first Pokémon Care class and came upon an utterly distraught Hagrid.

They soon found out why.

"Madame Maxime moved the Salamence," he told them thickly as the rest of the class petted the Electrike he was teaching on. "She's payin' some guy in 'ogsmead now. Some professional breeder."

There was no doubt the reason for Maxime's change of plans was the uncertainty of the Daily Prophet article.

"That horrible woman!" Hermione complained as the three of them sat down for lunch after their class. "What did Hagrid do to deserve this? You know what, she should be sued. That's slander, pure slander."

"It's not exactly new," Ron pointed out. "She does it to everyone. Makes a name for herself by airing out other people's dirty laundry." Hermione let out an irritated noise.

"And no one has done anything?" she asked, irate. "Believe me, if someone did this in the muggle world there'd be protests all across the country. She'd lose her job, become a social pariah."

"You muggles are vicious," Ron claimed, giving Hermione a worried look. "All that for being mean?"

"It's not just being mean," Hermione said angrily. "She's deliberately trying to ruin Hagrid's life. He's innocent. We all know he's innocent. But that hag is taking advantage of people's suspicions from last time and using them to get her own back. It's like when Hagrid was forced to leave Hogwarts all over again."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dumbledore would never let that happen," Ron said truthfully.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean Hagrid won't have problems," Hermione countered. "You saw him. He's absolutely miserable because Maxime moved the Salamence away."

"That does suck," Ron agreed. "He loves Pokémon. That must feel like a punch in the face."

"I don't think it's just about the Pokémon either," Hermione said. "I think what's really hurting Hagrid is that Maxime doesn't trust him anymore. They were getting quite close, weren't they, always meeting in his cabin."

Ron snorted. "Don't be thick," he said, shaking his head. "That's crazy." And he went back to eating his lunch.

Harry, however, thought Hermione's idea had some merit. He didn't claim to be much of an expert on love or relationships, in fact he was sure he knew absolutely nothing about them, but he had sensed that Hagrid had very much enjoyed having Maxime's company.

And if that was true Harry felt even more sorry for Hagrid.

* * *

Hagrid's plight plagued Harry's thoughts for the rest of the day, until they were blown completely from his mind right at the end of Pokémon Physiology, just as the bell went.

"Sit down, stay in your seats," McGonagall said sharply as the assorted students attempted to make a quick dash for dinner. "I have an important announcement to make. Bags down and listen."

She waited impatiently for the class to realise they weren't going to get away with trying to surreptitiously pack and soon enough the whole class were paying attention once more. Then she spoke.

"As is tradition when the Tri-Pokémon Tournament is held the Yule Ball will take place on the evening of December twenty-fifth," McGonagall said and immediately there were mutterings among the students.

"The Yule Ball is a great opportunity to form connections with your fellow students, both within and outwith Hogwarts," McGonagall continued. "It is also, however, a chance to show our friends from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang how we celebrate the holidays. On that note I expect each and every one of you to be on your best behaviour. Do I make myself clear?"

The whole class was silent now. Nobody wanted to cross Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall nodded her approval at their silence.

"A notice will go up in all the common rooms detailing the rules and procedures for this event," McGonagall said. "Yes, Ms Patil?"

Parvati had raised her hand and was leaning forward in her seat excitedly. "Do we get to dress up?" she practically squealed. McGonagall nodded.

"A dress code will be posted in the common rooms," McGonagall confirmed. "An additional Hogsmeade weekend will also be scheduled for the week before the ball in order to allow time to purchase dresses and such like for anyone who wishes to attend."

Excited whispers broke out as McGonagall said this, almost exclusively from the female students.

"The Ball will begin at eight p.m. at which time we will be treated to a Christmas feast," McGonagall said. "After that the champions and their dates will lead the students in dance and the Ball will continue until midnight, when you are to return to your dormitories for the night."

At this she dismissed the students, to a lot of noise.

"Can you believe we have to bring dates to this thing," Ron complained. It was only him and Harry as they left the classroom, Hermione having been dragged off by Lavender and Parvati for a conversation Harry was sure he didn't want to hear.

Harry agreed wholeheartedly with Ron's complaint, and for him it went double. While Ron could easily go on his own, though that might come with a fair bit of joking from his dorm mates, Harry simply had to find himself a date if he was to open the dancing with the other champions.

There were many problems Harry foresaw. The first was finding someone Harry actually wanted to go with. The second was finding someone who would be willing to go with him. As to the first issue he felt that, at his age, many of the students were starting to have relationships for the first time, but Harry found himself firmly uninterested in any of the girls Hogwarts had to offer.

"It's not just finding someone to ask," Ron said as they sat up in Gryffindor Tower a few days later. It was the weekend so the whole contingent of Gryffindor fourth years had been able to gather in the common room on the pretence of doing homework. As it was only Hermione was working.

"Then what is it?" she asked, glancing over to the distraction that was drawing the attention of half the group. Dean Thomas had caught a Snorunt in the forest and Lavender and Parvati were fawning over it relentlessly.

"It's actually going up and asking," Ron said. "You girls have no idea how difficult it is to get the courage to ask a girl to the dance." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Girls ask too," she pointed out. "Just look at Harry."

Harry had been asked out a grand total of three times since the announcement, though not by anyone he actually knew. The first girl, a fifth year Slytherin, Harry was quite sure was making a snide joke. The second, a Gryffindor second year by the name of Romilda Vane, had stalked Harry for two days before talking to him. The last was a first year Hufflepuff. Harry felt particularly bad about that one.

Ron snorted. "That doesn't count," he said. "He's Harry Potter, Tri-Pokémon champion."

"He's right," Neville spoke up. "No one's ever going to ask me out."

"Oh, don't be silly," Lavender had joined the conversation. "I'm sure loads of girls would love to go with you if you asked them."

"But see, that's the thing," Ron said animatedly. "We have to ask them. Do you know how hard it is to ask someone knowing you could be rejected? And there's barely any options either."

"Oh there's plenty."

"I'm with Ron on this," Seamus spoke up. "There's like twenty girls in our year, tops. You count out all the Slytherins and you barely have a choice."

"And you don't know which girls have already been asked," Neville added. "And even if they haven't been asked it's still awful to be told no."

"Especially if they haven't been asked," Harry contributed.

"I know, I get it can be difficult," Hermione told them. "But it's difficult for girls too. Do you have any idea how stressful it is waiting and hoping a boy will ask you?"

"And a nice boy, too," Lavender said. "Most of the time you get asked by complete creeps."

"Like me, Lavender," Seamus challenged. "I'm a creep, would you go with me?"

"Try me," Lavender shot back, rising to the challenge. "Go on. Try me."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville looked between them with wide eyes, not entirely sure what to make of this stare off between Seamus and Lavender. They looked as though they were either going to kill each other… or kiss.

It was Dean who broke the tension, though he wasn't speaking to them.

"Parvati," he said, looking at the girl as she played with his Snorunt. "Would you go to the ball with me?"

Parvati took a second to realise what he'd said, at which point she blushed. A smile spread over her face which she covered with her hand, only removing it once she'd straightened her face.

"Yes, that would be nice," she said politely, the smile flitting onto her face as she fought to keep it straight. Dean grinned in relief.

"Oooooh," Lavender squealed, causing everyone to jump at the high pitched noise. "Congratulations! Congratulations. Come on Parvati. Girl time." And she grabbed Parvati's hand and led the blushing, but smiling, girl across the common room and up the dormitory stairs.

"Wow," Dean said, looking after Parvati in what could only be described as amazement. Seamus clapped him on the shoulder.

"Way to go, buddy," he told him. "Nabbed a looker right there." Dean just grinned. He seemed very proud of himself.

"I'm going up to the dorm," he told the others, retuning Snorunt and standing up. "See you later."

"Hey, wait up," Seamus said quickly, tossing his chair to the side in his haste to catch up with Dean. Soon the two of them had disappeared too.

"Well," Ron said eventually, eyes wide. "Who saw that coming?" Hermione giggled.

"I'm so happy for them," she said with a smile. "I know Parvati really likes Dean and I always thought he liked her too."

Harry, Ron and Neville shared a look. None of them had had any idea.

They were soon interrupted as a new arrival joined them, Ginny leading Colin over and taking the seats Dean and Parvati had just vacated.

"What are we talking about?" Ginny asked, leaning forward interestedly. She must have seen the commotion from across the Common Room.

"The Ball," Hermione answered. "Dean just asked Parvati." Just like Lavender Ginny squealed, though thankfully a lot quieter.

"That's perfect, they make such a cute couple," Ginny crooned, her eyes growing misty. Ron made a retching noise. "And what about you Ron," Ginny turned on him. "Have you got a date yet?" Ron scowled, turning red.

"Very funny," he snapped. "You know fine well that I haven't asked anyone."

"Why don't you ask Hermione?" Ginny suggested, as though it was obvious. Hermione blushed and Ron, if it were possible, went even redder.

"Hermione wouldn't want to go with me," he said immediately. "Er, would you?"

Hermione was almost as red as Ron and was only just able to stammer out a response. "I wouldn't mind." There was a long, awkward silence.

"As friends of course," Ron said quickly and Hermione immediately let out a big breath.

"Of course," she agreed, as though it was obvious. "Yes. It will be much easier to just go together as friends than have to find other people."

"Exactly," Ron agreed. There was another long pause.

"So who are you going with, Harry?" Ginny asked as the silence persisted. Harry shrugged.

"No one yet," he admitted. "I don't really have any idea of who I want to ask either. What about you? Has someone asked you yet?" Ginny looked a bit disappointed.

"Colin and I wanted to go together," she admitted. "But you have to be in fourth year or above to go." She slumped slightly in her seat and let out a sigh. Harry felt sorry for her, she clearly wanted to go.

Harry was quickly distracted from this thought, however, as he felt someone's foot whack against his shin and he was only just able to stop himself from crying out. He looked up across the table to find Hermione staring intently at him, a meaningful look on her face.

"Hey, Ginny," Harry said, picking up on what Hermione was trying to convey.

"Yeah?" Ginny said, looking at him.

"I was wondering, since I don't really want to ask anyone maybe you could go with me," he suggested. Despite the fact that this wasn't a real proposal to the Ball Harry quickly found his mouth running ahead of steam. "I mean, I really need a date since I have to open up this whole dance thing and since I don't really want to go with anyone maybe we could…" he tailed off as he glanced across the table. Ron was giving him a very weird look and Hermione was shaking her head slightly from side to side, seemingly holding in some silent laughter.

Fortunately Ginny didn't seem in the least bit bothered by his rambling speech. In fact she beamed.

"I'd love to, Harry," she said brightly. "Thank you. I wouldn't get to go otherwise, at least not unless another fourth year asked me." She was cut short by a weird noise which was quickly silenced.

Neville, having made the unusual sound, had his hadn't clamped over his mouth in some sort of effort or hope that nobody had noticed. Unfortunately for him now all eyes were turned his way.

"Are you okay, Neville?" Harry asked worriedly. Instead of answering Neville blushed scarlet.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "It's just… I was going to ask Ginny, before…" he tailed off again. The poor boy was completely embarrassed. It looked as though he wanted the ground to just rise up and swallow him whole. He clutched Larvitar slightly tighter than normal, causing the Pokemon to look up at him worriedly.

"You know, I've got a friend you could take to the Ball," Ginny suggested. Neville peeked up at her.

"Really?" he asked timidity, just the tiniest sliver of hope in his voice.

"Yeah, Luna would love to go with you," Ginny said enthusiastically. Across the table Ron started coughing on air. "I know you'll like her, Neville. She's really nice. Isn't she, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said quickly, able to avoid repeating Ron's reaction. The poor boy was now red for a completely different reason and was relying on Hermione to help him regain his breath. "Luna's unique. You won't find anyone like her."

Neville looked cheered by the thought. "Yeah," he said, smiling down at Larvitar. "Yeah, that would be good."

"I'll tell her," Ginny said excitedly. "She'll be so excited." Then her expression fell. "But we haven't found you a partner," she said, turning to Colin.

"That's okay," Colin said cheerfully. The fact that these were his first words since sitting down was something of a record. "I'll just head home for Christmas. Dennis is wanting to show off his new Dedenne to mum and dad."


	14. Preparations

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Term ended a week before Christmas and while usually that would accompany throngs of students departing Hogwarts castle to spend the holidays with their family that was not so this year. Almost everyone from forth year and above would be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, the Yule Ball creating a lot of excitement, particularly from the female part of the school. Even the boys who weren't looking forward to the dance, like Ron, were still interested on what the Ball would be like, with Ron's particular focus being on the food.

As McGonagall had told them an additional Hogsmeade weekend had been arranged for the students in order for them to be able to get suits and dresses to wear to the ball. Gladrag's Pokémon Ware, the foremost clothing store in Hogsmeade, had agreed a deal with their neighbouring shops such that they'd expanded across nearly half of Hogsmeade's main high street to cater for the swarm of students that would be requiring their services.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had entered in what would usually have been Quality Quidditch Supplies, Ron seeming to be hoping that there would still be some Quidditch merchandise for him to amuse himself with. Unfortunately for him there was not.

"Who on earth would possibly want to buy this?" he asked perplexedly, standing before a mirror wearing one of the suits that had been picked out for him.

Harry personally agreed. The number Ron was wearing was a burnt orange colour, which Harry doubted would look good on anyone but certainly not someone with Ron's complexion. He looked a bit like a rather large carrot.

"What about this one?" Hermione suggested, holding out a more reserved blue piece on a hanger. "There are some trousers to match and you can wear it with a white shirt. Try it on."

Ron did so, shrugging out of the orange as though he was allergic and pulling on the blue one. It fit him well.

"Hey," he said, looking back into the mirror. "This isn't too bad." He gave himself an appreciative look, turning so he could see the back.

"I thought blue might be better," Hermione said, sounding pleased with herself.

"Definitely," Ron agreed. "Are the trousers blue too? I can see that working." He was still wearing the orange trousers from the last suit. "How much is it?" he asked, playing with the pockets. Hermione gave a pained look.

"Why don't I just get it for you," Harry stepped in quickly before Ron could see Hermione's expression. "It can be your Christmas present."

"I thought you'd already got me a present," Ron said with a frown. It was true, Harry had gotten him a new poster of the Chudley Cannons, Ron's favourite Quidditch team, but Harry wasn't ready to admit that.

"Great," Hermione said, ignoring Ron's reply. "Well, I'll just leave it to you then, Harry." She made to pass the hanger, with price tag attached, over to Harry but Ron was quicker. He nabbed the hanger out of the air and pulled the tag towards him. He gulped.

"There's no way I can afford that," he said, shaking his head. Harry and Hermione shared a look.

"Fine, we'll keep looking," Hermione sighed, taking the blue suit back from Ron and returning to where she'd found it.

Another hour of searching produced no better result. The problem was simply that there were very few suits that looked good on Ron, and those that did were almost always more expensive than what Ron could comfortably afford.

They'd gone through about half the shop before Hermione turned to Harry.

"Do you mind looking after Ron for a while?" she said, as though he was some sort of child that needed constant supervision.

"Why, where are you going?" Harry asked.

"Ginny and I need to find dresses," Hermione told him. "You know that'll take much longer than it'll take you guys."

She left, disappearing towards the back of the shop where the women's section had been set up, leaving Harry to deal with an increasingly dispirited Ron.

"This is hopeless," he complained, looking down the long rack of suits he'd tried and rejected for one reason or another. "I should just get that stupid orange one and sit in the back or something. Where's Hermione?" Harry told him.

"Bet she'll have found a dress before I find something here," Ron said miserably. "I mean, she'll look good in anything. I just look like a thumb." He looked really pathetic.

Harry sighed. "Will you just let me buy you the blue one?" he asked, annoyance starting to leak into his voice. He'd been hoping he wouldn't have to spend long searching for a suit, hoping to finally get the chance to properly explore Hogsmeade, but as the day went on that seemed increasingly unlikely.

Ron vigorously shook his head. "I can't let you do that."

"Why?" Harry questioned. "You know I've got more money than I know what to do with, why won't you just let me help you?" Ron flushed.

"I just don't want to be treated like a charity, okay," he bit out harshly. "You've got money. You don't realise how embarrassing it is to have to ask for it just so you don't look like an idiot."

"I'm not wanting you to ask for it," Harry told him. "I just want you to accept. This is what friends do, Ron. They help each other. Please, just let me do this."

"I wouldn't be able to pay you back," Ron said stubbornly.

"You already have," Harry argued. Ron just frowned at him. "I don't think you realise this but you're the first friend I've ever had. Everything you've done for me is worth more than gold. You introduced me to your family, you had me over in the summer, you let me stay in your room. You don't owe me anything, I owe you."

Ron looked a bit uncomfortable. He shifted slightly where he stood, not looking at Harry.

"Don't be thick," he said eventually. "You don't owe me anything. I wanted you there."

"And I want to help you," Harry replied calmly. Ron let out a breath.

"Fine," he said, running a hand distractedly through his hair. "Fine, we'll do it your way. But you're not paying for anything else today, alright."

"Fair enough," Harry agreed, doing his best to hide his relief at the fact he'd finally be able to get out of there. He'd already got his own suit more than an hour ago, an emerald green number that Ron tried to veto because it reminded him too much of Slytherin. "I'll go tell Hermione."

Finding Hermione, however, proved to be more of a challenge than Harry had expected. A quick search down the aisles turned up nothing and led Harry to do too many circuits before realising they must be in the changing rooms. A quick conversation with the guy running the store, the owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies, led Harry to the right cubicle and he knocked on the door.

"Hermione?" he said. "Hermione, are you in there?" He hoped he was right. The moment he had knocked a whispered conversation from inside had gone quiet and Harry had to wait nervously as the ruffle of shifting fabric sounded through the door and eventually it was cracked open.

"Harry." It was Hermione, though she kept the door mostly closed, only just peeking through the crack to talk to him.

"I convinced Ron to let me pay for the blue one," Harry explained at her questioning look.

"Oh good," she said, clearly relieved. "I was worried we'd be stuck here forever. There's nothing good in his price range."

"I know. Anyway, we're just about to pay," Harry told her. "Are you and Ginny ready?" There was a slight murmur behind the door, too quiet for Harry to pick up, followed by a lot of giggling. Through the crack in the door Harry could see Hermione's grin.

"I think we're going to be here for a while," she said, not sounding remotely unhappy about the prospect. "You two should go ahead, we'll catch up with you later." And Hermione closed the door on him, the giggling rising in volume as Harry was shut out.

He explained the situation to Ron when he found him, hovering near the counter. Ron just shook his head.

"Women," he said, as though that explained everything. "Anyway we should get going. I still haven't had the chance to show you around Hogsmeade yet."

And show Harry around Ron did.

Their first stop was Honeydukes, one place Harry had actually been before but still enjoyed to have a look around again. Quality Quidditch Supplies was a place Ron had wanted to show Harry for a long time but since that's where they'd just come from, and that all traces of Quidditch related products had vanished, Ron instead took him to Zonko's Joke Shop, the one shop, Ron said, that Fred and George worshipped.

Indeed they found Fred and George in there, along with their friend, Lee Jordan. They were laden with a Gladrag's bag each, having clearly completed their shopping for the ball earlier, and had laughed mercilessly as Ron described the burnt orange suit he wore earlier.

Their last stop on their tour around Hogsmeade was a trip to the PFG store, where Ron insisted on getting Harry a booster pack, before the two of them sat down for a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks and inspected Harry's pieces.

"Frogadier's good," Ron said, picking out the frog like Pokémon and ignoring the other three. "See, it has a purple attack and a blue attack. It's a hard piece to get rid of. Plus it can poison other pieces."

"So can Bayleef," Harry pointed out. Behind Pikachu and Charizard Harry felt that Bayleef was his most reliable piece.

"Yeah, but Bayleef has a really large miss section," Ron pointed out. "Frogadier is a better defensive piece. Bayleef has a much higher chance of being knocked out if attacked."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ring of the bell above the bar door, indicating someone had just entered, and Harry looked up to find Hermione and Ginny, rosy faced from the cold outside, but looking quite pleased.

"Sorry it took so long," Hermione said as she dropped into a seat at their table, placing her bag down next to Harry's. "We had to make sure we got it just right."

"Did you only just finish?" Ron asked, amazed. Harry was quite surprised too. He and Ron had gone through almost the entire collection in just a few hours but Hermione and Ginny had been looking for a lot longer.

"There are a lot more things to think about when it comes to girls clothes," Hermione told them. "You have to think about what style you want and what fabric. Every woman suits a different design."

"I think you're just picky," Ron grumbled.

"Yes, because you know so much about fashion," Ginny shot back, giving her brother a glare.

"Do you want to get a butterbeer?" Harry said quickly, cutting in before Ron could think up a suitable retort for his sister. Weasley squabbles could get out of hand quite quickly, owing to their characteristic fiery personalities.

Hermione took a moment to think, then shook her head. "It's getting late," she said. "It'll be time for dinner soon and I want to drop my dress off before then."

With that decided Harry and Ron finished the last of their butterbeer and stood up, Harry grabbing his Frogadier piece off the table, along with the others; Mankey, Tyrogue and Plusle. He picked up his bag, making sure he hadn't accidentally switched with Hermione, and followed his friends out the door.

The road up to Hogwarts was almost completely deserted, at least it seemed that way. It was really quite late and most of the school would have already returned, and with darkness having fallen hours ago there really was little light for the foursome to see more than a few meters ahead.

"Man, I'll be glad to get back inside," Ron muttered, rubbing his hands together. He had gloves, thick and well worn, but even so the temperature still approached freezing. It was a good thing there weren't any outdoor events held over winter.

"It's not far now," Hermione assured him, her teeth chattering somewhat as she spoke, quickly pulling her scarf back up to protect her frail skin from the harsh winds.

The castle was the one spot of light for them to follow, shining out of the windows up every level and littering the grounds below in patches of light. Up ahead a group of Beauxbatons students, accompanied by the hard to miss form of Madame Maxime, were scurrying across the grounds to the castle doors. They'd probably never experienced weather like this.

"Madame Maxime," a voice spoke, carrying down the road to where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were walking. "Do yeh mind if I take a minute?"

It was Hagrid, though his form was completely obscured from view from where they were standing. That was until he stepped forward and into the light. His appearance raised some eyebrows.

"What iz it Mr 'Agrid?" Maxime asked imperiously.

"Oh my," Hermione gasped and she grabbed Ron by the back of his jacket and pulled him behind a tree, Harry and Ginny following in confusion. "He's going to…" Hermione trailed off.

From behind the tree Harry peeked out, though he was sure there was no way they'd be spotted in the darkness, and surveyed Hagrid's new appearance. His hair, usually wild and untamed, had been tied back into what looked like some form of ponytail. His beard had been combed, sitting neatly down his chest, and he was wearing his finest clothes, despite the cold. In his hands he held a bouquet of flowers.

"Madame Maxime, I, er, I would like ter ask yeh somethin'," he said nervously, shifting on his feet in the frost. "Yeh see, it's not often yeh meet a girl of yer caliber an' I was wonderin', if you would be so kind…"

And Harry knew where this was going.

"Would yeh go to the Yule Ball with me?" Hagrid asked hopefully.

Silence was his answer. Madame Maxime, having not moved an inch since Hagrid had started his proposal, was watching him with an unreadable look on her face. Hagrid, almost seeming to be sweating from nerves, grew even more awkward the longer she stayed silent. After a while he held his bouquet up higher, as though to show her he'd brought them, before giving her another hopeful look.

"My answer iz no," Maxime said shortly, her voice cold. "I 'ave a duty to my students. I cannot accept proposals for dates." Hagrid looked heartbroken.

"Ah," he said, looking a bit at a loss. "Of course. Yeh need ter do what's best for yer students. I understand." He stood there awkwardly. How were you supposed to deal with someone who'd just rejected you?

"I will be going to ze Great 'All," Maxime said and she turned on her heel, walking away from Hagrid without a backwards glance.

Hagrid did not follow. For the longest time he stood there, looking after where Maxime had vanished, then he turned back the way he had come.

"I can't believe it. Poor Hagrid," Hermione said sadly, watching him go.

"What a bitch," Ron said angrily, not bothering to keep his voice down. There was no one around anyway. "You know that was just an excuse."

"It's not her fault if she says no," Hermione pointed out. "You're allowed to turn down an offer for a date."

"Bullshit," Ron replied. He seemed to be taking this personally. "You know three weeks ago she'd have said yes in a second. It's that darn Skeeter article that she read. What a bitch! Can't even see what's right in front of her." Even after he finished his rant he fumed silently, staring angrily at the castle doors. Ginny was looking in the other direction.

"He looks so sad," she said softly, watching the lumbering figure disappearing from view. His whole body was slumped over and the bouquet of flowers was dangling limply from his grip.

"Should we go over and say something?" she asked earnestly, looking around at the others. "Maybe we can help."

"We should leave him alone," Ron said immediately, drawing scandalised looks from Hermione and Ginny. "Poor guy's put himself out there and got shot down. Believe me, he won't want to talk to us."

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, wondering over Ron's words. Then all three of them turned to Harry. He sighed.

"Ron's right," he said eventually, though he hated to admit it. "There's nothing we can do to help right now. Anyway, he's got Fang, Norbert and Aragog to look after him. They'll do a much better job than us."

They did visit Hagrid the next day, sans Ginny. Despite the night's rest Hagrid was still clearly miserable but he didn't bring up Madame Maxime and Harry, Ron and Hermione, not wanting to admit to eavesdropping on their conversation, didn't either.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi, thanks for reading. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.

I just wanted to take this moment to say something I meant to say after the last chapter, which is to explain why Harry chose Fletchinder for the first task when it was rightly pointed out that Pikachu would seem the smarter choice. My answer is that Harry wasn't expecting to go up against Charizard and when he found out that's the Pokemon he was matched with it threw his entire plan out the window. Harry had no time to recover and think up a proper strategy and so instead he simply turned to the Pokemon that had more experience and that he trusted more.

I don't mean to say that Harry doesn't trust Pikachu but that Fletchinder had been with him for a lot longer and consistently came out with victories until his accident. When you are thrown for a loop and you have no time to plan you automatically go with what you're used to, what you know works. After all, Harry's original plan was to use Charmeleon, because out of all his Pokemon it is Charmeleon that has been there since the beginning. Fletchinder was simply the next best thing once he realised Charmeleon was not an option.

I hope this makes sense, though I doubt my explanation is as clear as it could be, but nevertheless I hope this gives you at least an idea of why I had Harry use Fletchinder rather than Pikachu.

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and I'll see you again in the next chapter.


	15. The Yule Ball

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Christmas at Hogwarts was always quite peaceful. The huge castle would be mostly empty as students went home for a few weeks to spend time with their families while the few that remained would spend their days lazing around the common room.

That was not the case this week. The castle had never seemed more crowded, almost the whole school staying behind, plus all the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Even the Hogwarts professors, who usual were only seen at mealtimes during the holidays, were regular fixtures in the hallways, filling every nook and cranny with Christmas decorations to impress their guests.

Even Christmas Day was thoroughly unusual. Normally Christmas consisted of two big events, the opening of presents in the morning and the fantastic dinner served at the end of the day. This year the Christmas presents were mostly forgotten, though Harry still took the time to appreciate his gifts, and the usual Christmas dinner was replaced by the feast of the Yule Ball, which would begin in little more than an hour.

Harry and Ron were in their dorm room at this moment, accompanied by their fellow Gryffindor fourth year boys, Neville, Dean and Seamus. The five of them had already dressed for the event, having nervously congregated upstairs with much more time than they needed to get ready, but they were taking their time in leaving, for a variety of reasons.

"Give it a rest," Seamus complained, directing his comment towards Dean, who was straightening his suit nervously in front of the mirror.

"Do you think I look alright?" he asked, though not to Seamus. Nevertheless, it was Seamus who answered.

"Of course, you knob-head," Seamus told him. "Parvati's seen you with bedhead drooling over your history text, she won't care if your eyebrows aren't perfectly symmetrical."

"Right," Dean said, though sounding as though he was completely ignoring what Seamus had actually told him. "Alright, let's go."

"Finally," Seamus grumbled, jumping up from his bed, not caring for the creases that had formed in his own suit as he headed for the door. Seamus, for reasons Harry couldn't even begin to understand, was taking Hannah Abbott to the ball. What had happened between him and Lavender, who Harry had been sure was going to be his date, Harry didn't know, but he had heard that she was going with a Ravenclaw fifth year.

"I should go too," Neville said nervously. "Ginny said I should meet Luna Lovegood in the Entrance Hall. I don't want to be late." And then he was gone too. It was just Harry and Ron.

"Do I look okay?" The question Ron had been waiting half an hour to ask came as soon as the door swung shut behind Neville's retreating figure. Despite everything Ron said to the contrary Harry could tell that he was incredibly nervous and nothing Harry had said so far had calmed him down.

"You look great," Harry told him in one last, valiant attempt to make him feel comfortable with himself. "Now come on, we should be meeting the girls round about now."

"Wait," Ron said hurriedly, roughly pulling at his collar to try and set it straight. He gave himself one last critical look in the mirror before deciding he was satisfied. "Ok, lets go."

The common room was quite full when they got down there, though fortunately not as busy as Harry had anticipated. Many of the students were meeting up with members of the other houses, or even students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, down in the Entrance Hall, leaving just the few with dates within their own house in the common room.

Dean and Seamus were standing there already, Dean waiting for Parvati and Seamus, it appeared, waiting for Dean.

"Can't she just hurry up," Seamus said grumpily. "Girls."

"You can go if you want," Dean told him, sounding annoyed. "I'm not stopping you." Seamus didn't but he did at least put a halt to his grumblings.

Dean, meanwhile, had not turned his attention from the staircase to the girls dormitories. He was standing completely straight, rubbing his hands nervously as a thin sheen of sweat started to glisten on his forehead.

When Parvati arrived his mouth fell open.

Harry had to admit he was only faring slightly better. Parvati was very attractive, of that Harry was very aware, but he'd never seen her in a dress and hadn't ever imagined what she would look like in one. Dean at least seemed to agree with Harry on the first part.

"Parvati," he said, practically gasping her name. "You look…"

"Ravishing," Seamus suggested. Parvati was wearing a dress of shocking pink, something that somehow complimented her complexion. Her hair, usually held in a ponytail, fell down her back in a long dark plait, braided with gold.

"Thank you," Parvati said, cutting Dean short as he turned to yell at Seamus. "You look quite dashing yourself." Dean blushed.

Harry's attention was distracted by a loud thunk from the boy's staircase and he turned to find Torkoal, Ron's somewhat cowardly fire type, sprawled at the foot of the stairs.

Pokémon were invited to the Yule Ball too, though they had to have partners for themselves also. Harry hadn't really thought about it, and Ron certainly hadn't, but Hermione and Ginny had set them straight and so Torkoal was joined by Charmeleon, Pikachu, and Pig the Pidgey.

"Honestly," Ron said exasperatedly, walking over and crouching down where his Pokémon lay miserably on the ground. "It wasn't that far down."

Harry personally thought that Ron was being a bit harsh on Torkoal, considering the fire type clearly wasn't built to navigate things like stairs, and chuckled as Pig landed on his best friend's shoulder and nipped his ear. Charmeleon and Pikachu, avoiding the drama of Ron and Pig, walked over to Harry's side.

"Chiko!"

Harry jumped, though quickly scolded himself for being so surprised, as Ginny's Chikorita flew into view, eyes wide as she ran towards them.

Chikorita remained very fond of Harry and was particularly fond of Pikachu. Many times over the course of the year so far Chikorita had acted much like this, jumping at the chance to spend time with Harry or Pikachu, depending on who was available. Though Harry hadn't talked about which Pokemon would be partnered up he could tell that Chikorita was not going to let Pikachu out of her sights.

As Pikachu braved the affections of Chikorita Harry looked up to find that Hermione and Ginny had appeared on the bottom steps of the girl's staircase. In Ginny's arms sat her Vulpix while Hermione was accompanied by Misdreavus, floating beside her, and Trapinch, who was standing by her feet.

"Wow," Ron croaked. Harry was inclined to agree. Both girls were looking very pretty. In Hermione's case, the only one Ron was actually looking at, she was wearing a dress of periwinkle-blue and her hair had been taken to task, tied up in an elegant knot at the back. Ginny meanwhile was wearing her hair down, her recognisable Weasley red locks falling past her shoulders as she wore a dress of pale pink.

The two of them complemented each other well.

"Yeah," Harry agreed hastily, realising he'd been studying them for a bit too long. "You look really nice… both of you," he added hurriedly, not wanting to offend either of the girls. Fortunately they both beamed at his words.

"Thank you Harry," Hermione told him. Harry had honestly never seen her look so excited before. "You clean up nicely too. And Ron, you look really good in a suit." Ron's ability to talk seemed to have left him as he just nodded dumbly.

"We should get going," Harry said quickly, trying to help his seemingly mute friend get out of the spotlight. "Would you?" Harry asked, holding out his arm to Ginny in a way he'd seen several of his fellow Gryffindors do for their partners. It seemed to work anyway, as Ginny blushed deeply and, placing Vulpix carefully on the ground, took his arm.

"Eh, we should go too," Ron said awkwardly, having finally regained his ability to speak. However he did not offer his arm and while Harry led Ginny out of the common room, feeling quite proud of himself as he did so, Hermione and Ron followed awkwardly behind.

"Ron, you're staring," Hermione pointed out. Her enthusiasm seemed to be waning and frustration was creeping into her voice as Ron proved to be not a completely attentive date.

"Sorry," he muttered, his ears going red in embarrassment at getting caught. "It's just weird, you know." Immediately Harry knew Ron had said the wrong thing.

"Weird?" Hermione bit back, now visibly frowning as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Well, yeah," Ron said. "But good weird," he added, reading the warning signs himself. "You look really good, Hermione. You should wear a dress more often." Hermione didn't look as though she was willing to give up her annoyance that easily but the faintest of blushes coloured her cheeks and she said no more about it.

The next challenge to their journey came in the form of stairs. Harry and Ginny started to descend, having no problems themselves, but quickly came to a stop as they realised they weren't being followed. Ron looked down at Torkoal. Torkoal looked back up at Ron. Ron sighed.

"Alright," he conceded defeat. "But you're going to have to learn how to get up and down stairs soon you know." And he bent down and lifted the rather heavy Pokémon into the air and stumbled down the stairs, Hermione following behind with an amused smile on her face, Trapinch in her arms.

It took them a while to reach the Entrance Hall, Ron having to stop and catch his breath several times on the way down as he lugged Torkoal along with him, but when they did they found it packed. The doors to the Great Hall weren't open yet which meant that those students who had already met their partners and were waiting to enter, which was nearly everyone by now, were crammed into the suddenly quite claustrophobic Entrance Hall.

"Mr Potter!" Professor McGonagall stood out from the rest of the student body, standing a few feet taller than most and donning a conservative tartan dress and a hat featuring a wreath of dangerous looking thistles on her head.

"Mr Potter, cutting it a bit fine, don't you think," she told him, slightly out of breath as she had to fight her way through the crowd to reach him. "Come with me. The Champions are all gathering together by the doors."

Saying goodbye to Hermione and Ron, who was bent over, panting heavily, Harry took a hold of Ginny's hand and pulled her along with him as he followed Professor McGonagall's distinctive figure to a small pocket of space, just to the side of the doors, where the other three champions and their dates stood.

"We'll be able to send everyone in shortly," McGonagall told them. "You are to wait here until the rest of the students are in the Great Hall before entering." Not long after she said these words the doors to the Great Hall opened and the excited students started to push their way inside.

Harry turned himself away from the mass of bodies passing by, vaguely noting his various friends and classmates as they passed, and instead focused on the champions and their respective dates.

Cedric, looking absolutely dashing with not a hair out of place, was, unsurprisingly, standing with the equally stunning Cho Chang, his girlfriend since the end of the last school year. Fleur, perhaps looking even more attractive than both Cedric and Cho combined, was standing with prefect and Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain Roger Davies, the older boy looking like he couldn't believe his luck that he was taking Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball. Lastly Krum stood silently with his date, a seventh year Hufflepuff girl Harry didn't know, but who was looking very excited. Harry was surprised by Krum's choice, especially considering that the Hufflepuff wasn't the most attractive girl available, but this just proved to remind him that he really didn't know Krum, despite everything they'd been through.

Each of the couples were also accompanied by a Pokémon pair. Cedric's Furret and Cho's Azumarill were standing patiently by their trainers' feet while Fleur had an Emolga on her shoulder. The cute little electric type was paying absolutely no mind to her partner, Roger Davies's Buizel, but was instead looking interestedly down at Pikachu, before Chikorita stepped in possessively. Even Krum, a guy Harry would never have thought would have a Pokémon that could be considered cute, had a Pokémon with him, though his Mienshao looked just as bored and uninterested as he did.

Harry noticed though that none of the three other couples were accompanied by more than one Pokémon pair and he started to worry that he might have committed some sort of error by bringing two. However, no one seemed to be paying that any attention and soon the thought was shoved to the back of his mind in favour of much greater worries as the last of the students entered the hall and Professor McGonagall gestured for the Champions to line up and prepare to walk in.

Harry was just glad that he wasn't the first to step through the door, that responsibility falling to Fleur as the first champion chosen. She walked in with her head held high, Krum slouching after her, followed by Cedric and Cho, and then Harry. Doing his best not to trip up over his own feet Harry got his first glimpse of the Great Hall.

Harry had been in there for breakfast that very morning and since then the hall had undergone a huge transformation. The grey stone walls had been covered in a sprinkling of snow and frost, giving them a sparkling silvery look which was echoed around the room while from up above ivy spread down from the rafters, laden with garlands of holly and mistletoe. The Litwick of the Halloween feasts were there but they were without their fellow ghost type Pokémon. Instead Cryogonal floated above the seated students and, covering most of the far wall, a glistening image of Articuno, the majestic Pokémon of ice and snow, spread its wings to greet them.

The top table was where they were being directed to go, eight seats empty for them to take with the rest of the students already seated at various other tables scattered across the hall. Dumbledore was sitting waiting for them, beaming with the expression of a man who couldn't be happier, while beside him both Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff seemed much less enthused. Ludo Bagman, however, seemed just as excitable ever, seated next to the final member of the top table. Except it wasn't Mr Crouch.

Percy Weasley took up the final seat at the table, looking just as shocked to see Harry, or rather Ginny, as Harry was to see him. His mouth was hanging open and he didn't even seem to notice as the champions reached the table and sat down, Harry dreading the fact that the last two available seats were mere feet away from the third Weasley brother.

As the last student sat Dumbledore stood. "As I have said countless times before… let the feast begin."

Food was delivered, dozens of Pokémon streaming into the hall to attend to the hungry students. Percy didn't take note of any of that.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," Ginny shot back. "What are _you_ doing here?" Between them Bagman chuckled.

"Know each other, do you?" he chortled, looking between the two red heads and obviously making the connection.

"I was asked to attend by Mr Crouch," Percy said importantly, sitting up straight in his chair. "He's unfortunately been rather unwell recently, no surprise given the work he's put in for the tournament. I am more than happy to take care of some of the burden to allow him some well earned rest." Percy stared down at them sternly.

"Does mother know about this?" he asked, turning suddenly to Ginny. "You know you are much too young to be dating." Harry, who had just taken a drink, choked loudly. Ginny flushed a deep red.

"We're not dating," Harry said quickly, trying, and most likely failing, not to sound like it was too ridiculous a prospect. "I just didn't really have anyone in mind for taking to the ball and since Ginny wouldn't be able to go otherwise I asked her." Percy wasn't looking very impressed.

"A good idea, if I may say so, Harry," Dumbledore spoke from across the table, causing them to look his way. "I always find that occasions such as this are much greater when spent in the company of friends."

Harry smiled gratefully at Dumbledore. The headmaster gave him a conspiratorial wink in return.

Fortunately Dumbledore's explanation seemed to satisfy Percy, who looked quite relieved to find out that his sister was not dating as of yet and didn't press the issue any further. Meanwhile Harry found himself deep in conversation with Cedric and Cho, who were seated beside him, about Quidditch, with Ginny on his other side in excited discussion with Bagman about the very same subject. Bagman had played for England during his younger years. He was a Beater.

Eventually the food had been consumed and Harry, quite full and thoroughly enjoying himself, forgot what was about to happen next. He was quickly brought back to earth with a thump.

"Champions," Dumbledore said, speaking only for the top table to hear. "If you would be so kind to escort your partners onto the dance floor for the first dance."

Harry gulped, feeling even worse as the other three champions stepped forward with confidence, leading their dates onto the dance floor. Krum, at least, looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but he still went through the motions without fail.

Harry gave Ginny a nervous grin, offering his arm which she accepted. Leading her onto the dance floor, and trying not to focus on how sweaty his hands felt, Harry decided to be straight with Ginny.

"I should probably warn you I can't dance very well," he admitted quietly, painfully aware that the rest of the hall had fallen silent as the champions moved into position.

"Don't worry," Ginny whispered back. "Just follow my lead."

Harry pulled her to a stop once he'd found a good bit of space, realising belatedly that he'd taken her rather close to where Fred and George were sitting, laughing silently at Harry's awkwardness. He placed a hand on her waste, like he saw Cedric do with Cho, and took her other hand in his.

The music started up, played by a popular Pokémon music group, the Weird Sisters, a slow, mournful tune, and they started to dance.

Harry had been certain that he'd mess up. He'd imagined himself tripping and falling or stepping on Ginny's toes or dress. He'd even imagined himself knocking Ginny over but none of these things happened as Ginny firmly but surely led him around the dance floor.

"How come you're so good at dancing?" Harry asked as he finally got over his initial nerves. While still having no clue as to what he was doing he found that if he just followed Ginny's lead his own good reflexes were enough to keep himself from looking too stupid. Ginny blushed.

"Mum taught me," she told him as they twirled around the dance floor. "She taught all of us. She's very traditional about some things."

They were no longer alone on the dance floor as other couples had started to join them. Dean and Parvati weren't far away, each wearing matching expressions of nerves and excitement, while over the crowd of students Harry could spot some of the teachers joining in, most noticeably Dumbledore leading Madame Maxime in a waltz. Harry was starting to really enjoy himself when he felt someone bump against his shoulder.

"Psst, Harry." It was Ron, looking supremely awkward with Hermione in his arms as he sidled up to them. "Why don't we get out of here? Have a butterbeer or something." Judging by the look on Hermione's face she was very against this idea.

"How about one more song?" Harry suggested, hoping to keep the girls happy. He was starting to feel a bit keen for a sit down too, since he'd been dancing nonstop for a while and the dance floor had suddenly become a lot more crowded.

Ron didn't look particularly happy with Harry's response but didn't complain, instead just focusing on not doing anything too embarrassing while he was dancing; he seemed particularly concerned about stepping on Hermione's toes.

As the one song Ron had agreed to dance for finished Ron immediately started to pull Hermione along with him through the crowd of dancers and Harry followed until they'd broken free and could find some seats at a now abandoned round table.

Ron let out a huge sigh of relief.

"I'll go get the drinks, shall I?" Ginny said scathingly, glaring daggers at Ron who didn't seem to notice at all. She'd clearly been having a lot of fun and wasn't appreciating her brother butting in.

"Good idea," Ron replied, completely oblivious and Ginny, realising this, stormed off in a huff, skirting round the crowded dance floor to where the drinks table sat. "Blimey, I'm tired."

"Tired?" Hermione asked, amazed. "How can you be tired, the ball has just started?"

"I'm just so full," Ron responded, patting his belly and letting out a small burp. "Good food though, wasn't it," he added to Harry. Harry shared an eye-roll with Hermione before nodding. Trust Ron to focus on the food.

"It has been good though, hasn't it," Hermione said. "I saw you were having a lot of fun with Ginny." Ron snorted but Harry nodded. He wasn't sure 'a lot' was an accurate description of how much fun he was having but it had certainly been more enjoyable than Harry had anticipated.

"She's been so excited, you know," Hermione told him. "It was really good of you to invite her. It's every girl's dream to feel like a princess and be asked to dance with a handsome man."

Hermione was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat and all three of them looked up together, surprised.

Viktor Krum stood before them, looking very awkward, though admittedly attractive in his dark red suit. He turned to Hermione.

"Vould you like to dance?" he asked politely. Hermione seemed shocked. "Of course, only if your date is alright vith it?" He looked quizzically at Ron. He seemed equally as shocked.

"Em, yes, alright," Hermione said, smiling up at Krum as she took hold of his proffered hand, a light blush on her face. "I'll see you guys later," she told them as Viktor Krum led her onto the dance floor. Harry waved goodbye before she disappeared from view. Ron just sat dumbstruck.

"Bloody hell," Ron said after a while. "Krum just stole my date!" Harry laughed.

"I'm not sure you're in much of a position to complain," Harry told him. "You weren't going to dance with her. And Krum was very nice about it. Asked your permission and everything."

"Yeah, but still," Ron agreed, though he really didn't look like it bothered him that much. Harry supposed that Ron's admiration of Krum as a Quidditch player was able to counteract the fact he was dancing with his date.

"Why weren't you wanting to dance, anyway?" Harry asked, curious. "Ginny told me Mrs Weasley taught you all how to dance." Ron scowled.

"Just because you know how doesn't mean you like to do it," Ron told him. "It was alright for Ginny, she spent most of the time dancing with dad. She loved it. But when you are the sixth boy to be taught by mum and all the rest of them are there and laughing at you…" he shook his head and shuddered.

"Percy's here, you know," Harry told him, suddenly remembering the bookish boy who, Harry could see, was still sat at the top table.

"I know," Ron said moodily. "He was the worst of them. Never laughed but you could always tell he was doing it on the inside."

They were left mostly untroubled for much of the night, to Ron's relief, and instead they just chatted about whatever came to mind as they watched the rest of the students dancing. Ginny had never returned, Harry briefly spotting her dancing with Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw in their year, but fortunately a Machoke was doing the rounds and so Harry and Ron were able to enjoy a butterbeer anyway.

"What are you two sad sacks doing out here?" Lavender Brown had extracted herself from the dance floor, looking as though she was having the time of her life, and approached her two classmates with hands on hips.

"We've been abandoned," Ron said morosely into his butterbeer. Lavender giggled.

"Yes, I saw. Hermione's still dancing with Krum," Lavender told him. Ron gave her a look that suggested that this wasn't helpful information. "Oh come on Ron, lighten up. Come dance with me."

"What?" Ron said, eyes widening.

"Yes, come on," Lavender told him, pulling the bottle of butterbeer out of his hand and pulling him out of his seat. "Can't have you not enjoying yourself on Christmas. Harry, I'll see if I can borrow Parvati from Dean for you."

"Take your time," Harry told her as she disappeared from view, dragging Ron behind her who looked helplessly back at Harry, to no avail.

Now on his own Harry settled back to watch the rest of the students. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, the ball seemed to be a smashing success. It wasn't just the students that were enjoying themselves. Nearly everyone had brought Pokémon with them to the dance and they were dotted around here and there enjoying themselves just as much. Harry could see Pikachu and Chikorita, jumping around having an absolute blast, and also Charmeleon and Vulpix, his slightly more reserved Pokémon still seeming to enjoy himself. There were many other pairs he recognised; Dean's Snorunt and Parvati's Delcatty, Neville's Larvitar and Luna's Munna, closely chaperoned by Ivysaur and the newly evolved Espeon, Pidgey and Misdreavus, and Torkoal and Trapinch, the two of them bobbing their heads enthusiastically to the music. Even Pansy Parkinson's Liepard and Draco Malfoy's newly caught Sneasel were dancing. The professors, too, had Pokémon with them including Dumbledore's Chimecho, who had floated past a couple of times already, Madame Maxime's Smoochum, who looked even smaller than usual in comparison to the gigantic woman, and Professor Karkaroff's Shedinja. They all, with few exceptions, seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Movement from the corner of Harry's eye drew his attention and he turned, just catching a sight of his target before said target disappeared silently out the doors to the Entrance Hall.

It was Professor Stefanov.

Harry frowned. What was he doing? Harry couldn't be sure but he thought that near enough everyone at Hogwarts was currently in the Great Hall. So why was Stefanov sneaking out? He glanced around, wondering if anybody else had noticed, but nobody was looking his way. And so Harry, knowing he was probably sticking his nose into things that did not concern him, got up and slipped out of the hall after him.

It was a good thing he'd moved so quickly. Stefanov was just barely visible to him as he reached the doors before he disappeared again, this time down the steps to the dungeons. Now Harry was really suspicious. What reason would Stefanov have to visit the dungeons, where only the Slytherin dorms and potions classrooms were held.

He followed as silently as he could, keeping his footsteps light so as not to give away his position. Stefanov, however, didn't seem to care, walking swiftly down the corridor such that all Harry had to do to follow was listen out for the click of his shoes on the solid stone floor.

The sound stopped suddenly. A door was pushed open and Harry, turning a corner, was just in time to see the door swing shut behind him. He crept closer, careful not to make a sound and also careful to check his surroundings. He didn't want to be found hiding out around here. This was, after all, Snape's office.

"Professor Stefanov," Snape's voice sounded from inside the room and Harry crept closer. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" As Harry crept closer he realised that the door hadn't closed fully behind Stefanov, allowing Harry a brief glimpse inside the room. What he could see was Snape, looking just as he always did, with Stefanov outside his range of vision.

"I think you know, Snape," Stefanov replied. There was a certain harshness to his voice although Harry realised just then that he'd never heard him really speak.

"I can assure you I haven't got the faintest idea," Snape told him. Harry believed him. He himself was at a loss as to why Stefanov had decided to track down Snape of all people.

"I'm talking about this," Stefanov said angrily and he stepped momentarily into Harry's view, grabbing hold of Snape's left arm and jerking back the sleeve.

Harry had to hold back a gasp. For a brief moment, before Snape fought the Durmstrang professor off, his bare skin was exposed and what lay upon it sent alarm bells through Harry's brain.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello everyone, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.

Unfortunately I've been rather scatterbrained recently and keep forgetting things to mention in my author's notes. Specifically what I'm about to say should have been said along with the stuff at the end of the last chapter.

In response to a review I have to say I don't want to give anything away about the second task but I will say that there is no way Harry is borrowing Ron's Wartortle for it, or any other Pokemon. The rules clearly state he must use his own Pokemon so if he does need a water Pokemon for the task then he's going to have to catch one himself.

Anyway, that's all for now. I hope you've enjoyed and I'll see you in the next chapter.


	16. Perspectives

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

"What do you think you are doing?" Snape snapped, pulling his sleeve down to cover the mark Stefanov had so shockingly revealed.

"You are a Death Eater, Snape, you hold the mark," Stefanov said. "Surely you must know vot is going on. I look for answers but I find none. But you must know, Snape. You, one of the few who have survived."

"I will not tell you things you don't understand," Snape said tightly. He was now out of Harry's line of sight, having stepped away from Stefanov, but Harry could just imagine his expression. "If you have not learned anything from Karkaroff then you won't learn anything from me."

"Chime," a soft voice called in his ear and Harry jumped, almost knocking his hand against the door he was listening at. Fortunately he didn't and Snape and Stefanov remained unaware of his presence. But someone was.

Chimecho floated beside him, looking worried for reasons Harry could only guess at. She took a hold of his arm with her ribbon-like tail and gently pulled him away from the door. Realising that his eavesdropping had come to an end Harry let her pull him away, following the Pokémon as she led him back up out of the dungeons and into the Entrance Hall.

Yet she didn't stop there. Instead of leading him back into the Great Hall, where the sounds of the ball were still to be heard, she instead pulled him up the marble staircase. She continued to drag him onwards, down corridors and up staircases, before Harry realised exactly where she was taking him.

Dumbledore's office was a place few students ever visited, but Harry had been there many times before so he had no fear of knocking.

There was no answer.

"Chime," Chimecho called and the lock seemed to undo itself, the door swinging open to admit the human and Pokémon.

The reason Dumbledore hadn't answered the door became clear the moment Harry stepped inside his office; he wasn't there. Everything else was though. The same books lined the bookcase, the same papers piled up in neat organised stacks, and the same Pokémon were there too. Fawkes, Dumbledore's Ho-oh, sat on his perch and gave a soft cry at Harry's entrance. Harry looked around.

"Why did you take me here?" he questioned, though he wasn't expecting an answer. Instead he found his attention caught by something else, something he hadn't seen before in Dumbledore's office.

Lying on the old headmaster's desk sat an unusual eerie blue object that seemed to be pulsating slightly with an inner light. Harry's first thought was to worry that it might be dangerous but he quickly forgot about that. The blue light was sort of comforting, rather than forbidding, and he drew forward with little worry.

As he drew closer he realised the object in fact resembled a flower of sorts, though Harry had never seen a flower look like that. The blue glow seemed to swirl, almost like water, among the petals and, looking down at it, Harry was oddly reminded of Professor Moody's glass eye.

He reached out a finger and touched it.

A pulse shot out of the flower and Harry stepped back in shock as the room around him seemed to fill itself with shapes that hadn't been there before. The blue light invaded every nook and cranny of the room, covering everything but not doing anything to them. And as the light pulsed Harry realised that the shapes that were forming weren't random. They were all part of a scene.

No longer was he looking down at Dumbledore's desk, though he could still see it there, hidden beneath a translucent layer of blue. Now he was looking at a long rectangular room with seats all around the edge with Harry standing firmly in the middle next to four bound and captive bodies.

What was going on?

A loud noise startled Harry and he turned away from the people before him, three men and a woman, to look behind him to where several people were sat upon a raised platform. The noise sounded again and Harry realised it was the sound of a hammer against wood as the man in the very centre brought the room to order.

Harry started. The man, who Harry had been assuming was someone he'd never met before, was in fact none other than Mr Crouch. He was a lot younger than Harry remembered seeing him, even with the blue tinge of this strange apparition Harry could see that his hair was still dark, though he looked just as ill as his older self. His face was drawn and his features stiff.

"You have been brought here before this council so that we may pass judgement on you for the crimes for which you have been accused," he said stiffly, his voice exactly as Harry remembered it.

"We have heard the evidence against you," he said, loud enough so that his voice carried throughout the otherwise silent room. "The four of you stand accused of the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom in the hopes of learning of the whereabouts of your exiled master, He Who Must Not Be Named."

Harry gasped, whirling around to stare at the accused. They did not look concerned by the accusation, or rather most of them didn't. Two of the men, kneeling on either side of the one woman, showed no expression at all while the woman even had the gall to smile. The last figure, who Harry realised with a shock couldn't be much older than he was now, whimpered.

"I now ask the jury to raise their hands," Crouch continued. "If they believe that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban."

There was little doubt from the jury. Along the right hand side of the courtroom every single hand was raised in the air. The faces of the jurors were hard and cold and in some places even gleeful as they condemned the criminals before them to eternal incarceration.

"No!" The boy who had been whimpering before started to scream. "No! You can't! I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"

"Dusknoir," Crouch said, his voice cold, but before he could give his command the boy spoke up again.

"No! Please, don't! Father! I'm begging you!" Harry's head whipped around, following the boy's gaze, thinking that surely that couldn't be right. But the boy was indeed looking straight at Crouch. He was his son?

"Father! Please! Help me! I am your son!"

Crouch rose to his feet, the movement so sudden that even the boy stopped speaking. What he said next echoed around the hall.

"I have no son," he said, the words reverberating powerfully around the room. The boy, the young Crouch, looked broken. "Dusknoir, take them away." The other three rose gracefully to their feet, allowing themselves to be led away without fuss. They seemed to hold no fear for what was in store for them. The boy, however, was frozen in place. He was not speaking any more, simply staring up at his father who stared back, not a hint of compassion on his face. He continued to stare as a pair of aurors grabbed hold of the boy and pulled him from the room.

"Good riddance," a voice muttered and Harry jumped, turning to find himself looking at none other than Professor Moody. He had been sitting on the left, opposite the jurors, and was glaring out with a look of outright hate on his face as the boy was dragged from the room. Sitting next to him, giving Harry another shock, was none other than Albus Dumbledore. He wasn't looking nearly as angry as Moody was, but there was a hard element to his features. He gave a sharp nod.

"I think that's enough," he spoke, although his voice didn't sound from his mouth. Instead Harry turned to find that a second Dumbledore had appeared in the room, this one older and a lot more solid.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry gasped, only just remembering where he actually was, so caught up in the events of the courtroom to remember how it all came about. "I'm sorry, Professor, it was just there and I… I touched it."

Dumbledore waved him away. "You have no need to apologise," he told Harry, walking through a translucent blue Dusknoir. "Curiosity is not a sin, though caution is always advisable." He reached the flower like object that was projecting the scene and gave it a delicate stroke.

Immediately the blue light shot back towards the flower, Dumbledore's office almost seeming to appear out of nowhere as Harry was brought back to the present with a thump.

"I do wonder, however, how you were able to get into my office," Dumbledore said, though not angrily. "I believe I remember locking the door."

"Chimecho brought me here," Harry explained. Dumbledore nodded.

"That would explain it," he agreed. "I had been surprised to find you here without the presence of Mr Weasley." Exactly how Dumbledore knew of Ron's lock picking skills Harry didn't know but he had far more important things on his mind.

"What was that?" he asked, approaching the desk once more and staring down at the blue object sitting upon it. "Was that real? Did it really happen?" Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, unfortunately," he said, sitting down behind his desk and gesturing for Harry to sit down also. "What you just saw was a memory, a memory of the trial for Rudolphus, Rabastan and Bellatrix LeStrange, along with Barty Crouch Jr."

"So that really happened?" Harry asked. "Neville's parents…"

"Were tortured," Dumbledore confirmed. "The event took place not long after Voldemort was destroyed. Not believing the rumours some of the most loyal and devoted sought to find him and believed that the Longbottoms would know."

"What happened to them?" Harry asked. He knew something had gone wrong over the years. Neville lived with his grandmother and never mentioned his parents. Harry had assumed he was an orphan like him. "They're not dead, are they?"

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore said sadly. "Death would have been merciful in comparison to the horrors they suffered. The extent of their torture - I shall not go into details - rendered them unable to function. They are both being treated at St Mungo's Hospital but there is little hope that either of them will ever be capable of living outside once more."

Harry felt sick.

"Why did I see that?" Harry asked, looking at the flower with a lot more distrust than before. "Why did that happen?"

"There must have been some reason," Dumbledore said curiously. "Think back to your thoughts when you touched the flower."

Harry frowned. "I thought it looked like Moody's eye," he admitted, causing Dumbledore to chuckle. "Is that it? Because Moody was there."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore suggested. "Alastor Moody, as I'm sure you know, is not the most warm hearted individual in the world. He's seen war, and fought in it too. It is things like this that leave the scars you never truly lose."

Harry frowned. What did Dumbledore mean by that?

"Alastor Moody was Frank Longbottom's mentor during auror training," Dumbledore explained. "He grew to care for both him and his wife in that time. Their fate has hit him hard."

That would explain why Moody seemed to have a soft spot for Neville. It was always strange watching Moody consistently ask Neville the easy questions and give him praise when he was such a hard taskmaster on everyone else. This made everything so clear.

"Please excuse me, Harry," Dumbledore said. "You were here for something?"

Harry had forgotten. In the shock of what the mysterious flower had shown him he'd pushed all other thought to the back of his mind. Now these thoughts came rushing to the surface.

"I overhead Stefanov and Snape," Harry said quickly. "They were talking, Stefanov wanted to know something. Professor, Snape is a death eater."

"That's Professor Snape," Dumbledore said calmly. "And I'm afraid you are mistaken. Severus Snape is no more a death eater than you or I." But Harry wasn't to be deterred.

"But I saw the mark," he told Dumbledore urgently, pushing back his own sleeve so as to indicate where he had seen it. "It had the skull and the snake… it was the Dark Mark." But Dumbledore remained untroubled.

"Nothing you are telling me is anything I don't already know," Dumbledore said simply. "I'm well aware of the mark upon Professor Snape's arm. It is because of me that Severus is not in Azkaban right now."

Harry was stunned. Dumbledore had known? All this time Dumbledore had in his employ a man with the mark of the most feared trainer in the world tattooed on his forearm. "I don't understand."

Dumbledore sighed. "Nor do I truly expect you to," Dumbledore told him. "Professor Snape's story is a complicated one, and I do not yet believe you are old enough to truly grasp the truth. Yet I will tell you anyway. You at least should know partly from where Professor Snape is coming from."

Dumbledore paused, picking up a small sweet from a bowl on his desk, popping it into his mouth. He sucked on it for a moment, then turned to Harry. "Sherbet lemon?" Harry politely declined the treat. Instead he waited patiently as Dumbledore finished his own.

"Severus Snape's story starts from the beginning," Dumbledore told him, resting his hands on the desk. "In childhood he lost his mother, a great blow, especially considering his father was less than adequate. I tell you this so you will understand how easy it was for young Severus, swayed by his Slytherin house mates, to see the positives in joining Lord Voldemort."

"So Snape was a death eater," Harry said loudly. Dumbledore paused. "Sorry."

"Indeed, for a time Severus Snape was a death eater, along with all that it entails," Dumbledore agreed after a moment's pause. "Including having the Dark Mark tattooed upon his forearm. But Severus was never comfortable with what he was doing. He'd joined simply because everyone he knew in the Pokémon world had joined but he did not share their brutality or their lack of morals."

"He approached me," Dumbledore continued. "Only a short while after joining the death eaters. He'd realised the error of his ways and asked for my help. But my hands were tied. In the middle of the war I couldn't just give aid to death eaters, even if they said they wanted to help. No, Severus had to pay for my help, and he did so with information."

"Severus Snape was the most valuable spy in the entire conflict with Voldemort," Dumbledore told Harry. "Voldemort was a master at seeing through deception and lies but Professor Snape was able to trick him for nearly two years before Voldemort was eventually destroyed. After that I held up my end of the deal, giving him work and comfort within the walls of this castle when nobody would think of hiring a former death eater, teaching a subject he was uniquely qualified for."

"He's not a very good teacher," Harry pointed out before he could help it.

"He's better than you give him credit for," Dumbledore denied. "Although I do agree his enmity towards your father will not have given him much encouragement to prove that to you."

The clock chimed.

"Well, would you look at the time," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. "There's only an hour left of the Yule Ball, we must be getting back. Who knows when we'll next have the chance to laugh and dance with our European friends."

Harry moved to leave.

"Oh, and Harry," Dumbledore said, stopping him short. "I'd ask that you don't share what you've learned about Professor Snape with the school. It's difficult to live a normal life with such a difficult past, and I wouldn't want the students to fear him… or at least more than they already do."

Harry smiled. "I won't, Professor," he said. "I promise."

And he meant it, sort of, though that didn't stop him from heading upstairs rather than down as he left the Headmaster's office. His head was still swimming with everything he'd learned. The truth about Snape's loyalties, the fate of Neville's parents, the fact that Mr Crouch's own son had been part of the group that did it, or perhaps not if his pleas were to be believed. He needed to talk to someone and there was only one person he trusted that he felt he could talk to.

He entered the deserted Gryffindor Common Room and penned a quick note, trying to explain what had happened but still unable to truly put into words the magnitude of the revelations. He signed his name hurriedly and within moments Talonflame was soaring out his dormitory window, disappearing into the night.

He returned back downstairs, though when he got there he didn't find himself much wanting to return to the ball. While he wanted to talk to Ron and Hermione about what he had just learned he also didn't want to spoil their evening. And so he made his way out the front door and onto the grounds.

Since he'd been gone it appeared that some of the students who had been at the ball had gone out onto the grounds also. The area immediately outside the castle was lit by the soft glow of Lampent and Chandelure, the remaining Pokémon that usually lit up the Halloween feast, and Harry imagined that for a couple it might be quite a romantic setting, not that he knew much about that.

Instead he walked on, out of the main glow cast by the floating fire type Pokémon, and down towards the edge of a hill, a part of the grounds where the ground fell away steeply and you could look out with an unobstructed view over the great lake.

He was not the first to reach this spot. Fleur Delacour was already standing there, arms wrapped around her slim figure as she stared off into the night. She started as she heard him approach.

"Oh, it iz you," she said, turning away again once she spotted him. "What iz it you are doing here?" Harry hesitated.

"I just came to get some fresh air," Harry replied. "What are you doing out here?"

"Same," she answered simply, looking out over the grounds. Of course they couldn't see anything, it was much too dark outside the limited light of the floating Lampent and Chandelure, but Harry assumed that, like himself, Fleur could picture the water below.

"Where's Roger?" Harry asked. It felt weird saying that. He had never referred to Roger Davies by his first name before. They really didn't have anything to do with each other.

"Inside," Fleur answered. "'E was annoying. Didn't even listen, just stared." Harry could imagine that to be true. Fleur was objectively quite beautiful most of the time and in a dress she only became more stunning.

"And what about your girlfriend, Genie?" Fleur asked. "Are you not spending time with 'er?"

"It's Ginny," Harry corrected, somehow feeling it was important to set the record straight. "And she's not my girlfriend. We're just friends."

"But she would want to spend time with you, non?" Fleur wondered. Harry shrugged.

They didn't say anything more, the conversation ending rather abruptly, and Harry wondered if he should just leave, find his own spot to stand alone. But he thought better of it, instead approaching Fleur and standing beside her. She did not protest.

"Aren't you freezing?" he asked, eyeing up the razor thin fabric of her dress.

"Oui," was Fleur's reply. Harry glanced around.

"Here," he said, pulling off his suit jacket and handing it out to her. "Put this on. It'll warm you up." Fleur eyed the article of clothing warily.

"But zen you will be cold," she pointed out. Harry shrugged.

"I'll be alright," he replied. He was, after all, much better acclimatised to Hogwarts' weather than she was. She accepted the jacket gratefully.

"Thank you," she told him, wrapping it around her thin shoulders. Fortunately Fleur wasn't that much taller than Harry, despite the age difference, and so Harry's jacket didn't look comically small over her dress. Still, Harry was glad people couldn't see them. He didn't want to think of what rumours Rita Skeeter would come up with.

Fleur was looking at him quizzically, and it took Harry a moment to realise this was the first time he'd actually been around her since the first task.

"I don't understand you," she told him simply. "What iz it you are doing zis for? Have you not already got ze fame and ze glory? Even in France we know who you are." Harry bristled.

"It's not about fame or glory," he said, annoyed. "I don't care about that. I just want people to acknowledge that I'm not just the Boy Who Lived. I'm Harry and I'm actually good at things too."

"Zat's what I don't understand," Fleur told him. "Why compete? You will lose."

"Who says I'll lose," Harry responded angrily. "I'm second right now, tied with Krum and not far behind you."

"But why?" Fleur questioned. "Why take ze risk of 'urting your reputation?" Harry wanted to answer, wanted to argue with Fleur until she finally understood why he had to do this, but he knew that if he couldn't even make Hermione, one of his best friends, see then it was unlikely Fleur would. And at that moment the fluttering of wings announced the return of Talonflame.

Harry read the reply in silence, shielding its contents from Fleur's inquisitive look, before crunching it up in his fist. It wouldn't do for someone else to read that letter.

"I've got to go," he told her, and she immediately moved to give him back his suit jacket, which he accepted gratefully. He moved to leave, taking a step in that direction, before he turned back to say one final thing.

"Spend a few years being known for the death of your parents," Harry said, startling Fleur who had turned back to the darkness. "Then you'll understand why I have to do this."

Harry hurried back up to the castle, recalling Talonflame to his Pokéball. Upon reaching the Entrance Hall he glanced towards the venue of the ball. The party was still going strong and Harry really didn't want to go back inside, especially considering the unwanted attention it would bring. He'd just have to trust that Ron and Hermione would look after Pikachu and Charmeleon for him tonight.

With that in mind Harry hurried up the great marble staircase, climbing through the castle quickly until he reached the third floor.

This floor was mostly unused, having once played host to the Pokémon Statistics classroom, but in more recent times it had been home to Fluffy the Hydreigon and the secret passageway leading through the obstacles protecting the Sacred Ash.

Fluffy was long gone now, and fortunately the door behind which he had lived was no longer locked, allowing Harry to walk straight through and into the room behind.

"Harry." As he had promised to be Sirius Black was there, walking forward to hug him the moment he had stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Thanks for coming," Harry said, feeling quite exhausted from the nights events. It was fast approaching midnight.

"Well I had to, didn't I," Sirius told him. "You're my godson." Harry gave a grateful smile.

"Here, you should take this," he said, pushing the note Sirius had sent to him.

"Good idea," Sirius acknowledged. "I'll make sure to have Crookshanks destroy it when I get back." He grinned. Then his expression turned serious. "Now what is it that's bothering you?" he asked. "I tried to make something out of your letter but all I could tell was it had something to do with Snape and the war and Barty Crouch… what happened?"

And so Harry told him everything he had witnessed that evening, starting from the moment he had seen Dmitry Stefanov sneak out of the Great Hall during the ball. Sirius listened attentively, nodding every so often to encourage Harry to continue, and by the time Harry had finished his tale, ending the moment he left Dumbledore's office, Sirius was frowning slightly.

"Well," Sirius said after a moment's pause. "What is it you want to know?"

"Was Snape a death eater?" Harry asked immediately. He needed to hear this from Sirius.

"Oh yes," Sirius told him. He almost sounded relieved. "Yes, Snape joined right out of Hogwarts, like most of the Slytherins in those days."

"And then he turned spy?"

"Supposedly," Sirius answered. "Never trusted the guy, he was just the same old Snape we knew from school, but Dumbledore vouched for him. Truth is Dumbledore always kept his cards very close to his chest when it came to Snape. Guess he was worried we had spies as well."

"Which you did," Harry pointed out. Sirius winced at the reminder.

"Anyway, I'm much more interested in that meeting with Stefanov," Sirius told him. "I don't know the guy but he clearly thinks something is up and if he's going to Snape for answers…" Sirius tailed off.

Harry swallowed. "What do you think it does mean?" he asked. "All the stuff that's been going on? The attack on the World Cup? You don't think Voldemort is behind it?"

"It's done in his name, at any rate," Sirius told him. "But I don't know. It would seem odd for Voldemort to find his supporters again without something happening. I suppose Wormtail could have something to do with it but last time we saw him he was a Rattata. He's probably been eaten by now."

Harry made a face. That was a truly disgusting image Sirius had put in his head.

"And what about Crouch?" Harry asked. "He wasn't at the ball, Percy said he was ill."

"Which, by the way, is unusual for Barty," Sirius told him. "He's a real work horse, never takes a day off if he can help it. It made him really popular back in the day, before the whole thing with his son derailed his political career."

"You knew about his son?" Harry gasped.

"Only afterwords," Sirius told him. "I was already incarcerated by the time the Longbottoms were attacked. Remus told me what happened afterwards. Nasty business. And it happened to two of the nicest people you'll ever meet." He looked angry and Harry wondered if, like Moody, Sirius had been close to the Longbottoms.

"They were members of the Legion," Sirius explained. "It was quite a small community; everyone knew everyone. Plus we knew Frank and Alice from school. Frank was Head Boy the year before your dad." He cleared his throat and blinked. Clearly the reminiscing was getting too much for him.

"Anyway, the point is that if Crouch is missing work there's something seriously wrong with him," Sirius said, rather loudly to cover up his moment of weakness. "I said his career was derailed by his son going to Azkaban but he didn't change a bit. His wife died not that long after. Apparently he took one day off before returning to work. He's a hard bastard is Crouch."

Sirius sighed. "Anyway, enough about Crouch and Stefanov and Snivellous, I want to hear about you," Sirius said. "How was tonight?" Harry smiled.

"It was good," he told him, focusing on the small part of the evening in which he'd actually attended the ball. It would be over by now, everyone would be back in their common rooms, and Harry hoped that Charmeleon and Pikachu weren't too worried about him. "It was fun."

"Who was your date?" Sirius asked excitedly.

"Ginny Weasley."

"Did she look good?"

Harry blushed. "Yeah."

It would be a long time before Harry would return to the Gryffindor Common Room, him and Sirius talking for hours on end about everything and anything, locked away in the forbidden corridor on the third floor. Harry wondered if that's what growing up with Sirius would have been like.


	17. Simulation

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The morning dawned on the 26th of December and the atmosphere in the castle could not have been more different. Before there was a buzz in the air, everyone, even if they hadn't wanted to admit it, excited about the Yule Ball. Now it was very flat. There was very little to do over the holidays, as many of the students were discovering, and so the castle was full of bored Pokémon trainers.

For Harry things were even more difficult. He'd gone to bed with a smile on his face, having spent a wonderful few hours talking with Sirius, but the next morning he woke up in a world he couldn't understand. Ron and Hermione, for reasons that left Harry flummoxed, were acting very awkward around each other. Harry assumed it must have been something that had happened after he had left, though his two best friends refused to tell him anything about it.

They weren't the only ones acting weird. Dean and Parvati, who had by all accounts had a brilliant Yule Ball, were spending pretty much all their time together, leaving Seamus left out. It was even worse since Seamus and Lavender were outright refusing to speak to each other.

Only Neville was acting normally, having told Harry that he had really enjoyed his time with Luna, leaving Harry feeling a lot less guilty about asking Ginny to the ball before he could.

Nevertheless Neville wasn't enough normality to keep Harry going, especially as focused as he was on Larvitar's well being, and after a couple of weeks where Harry started to feel more and more closed in inside the walls of Hogwarts he went down to visit Hagrid.

Harry hadn't spoken to Hagrid since before the Yule Ball, the giant man having not even attended after being devastated by Madame Maxime's refusal. Harry worried about his first friend in the Pokémon world but as he made his way towards his cabin his fears were somewhat assuaged.

Hagrid was not in his cabin, instead standing, not just by the lake, but actually in the lake. He was tending to a rather beautiful Pokémon, a Lapras, and seemed entirely at ease. He was surprised when Harry approached.

"Oh, hey there Harry," he said, half turning to face him whilst continuing to rub down Lapras's shell with a well used cloth. "What yeh doin' down here?"

"I was coming to see you," Harry told him, approaching the bank. The Lapras, who had had its eyes closed, enjoying Hagrid's attentions, looked towards Harry and let out a low croon.

"What yeh sayin', Lapras?" Hagrid asked, looking at the Pokémon curiously. "Yeh know Harry?" Lapras crooned again.

"Hagrid?" Harry wondered. "Is this one of the Lapras that takes the first years over?" Hagrid looked amazed.

"O' course, he must 'ave been the one to take you across," Hagrid said in realisation. "Is tha' right, Lapras?" Lapras crooned again, bobbing its head. Harry smiled.

"Well, come on Harry, in yeh get," Hagrid called waving for him to join them. Harry quickly pulled off his shoes and socks and rolled up his trousers, hurrying to get into the water as his bare feet rested on the freezing cold ground.

"There yeh go," Hagrid said with a smile as Harry joined him. "Isn't this nice?"

Harry had to agree. He loved his Pokémon dearly but there was something incredible about spending time with wild Pokémon in their own habitat. It always helped remind him of the wonders of the Pokémon world.

"Do you do this often?" Harry asked, petting Lapras's long, elegant neck. "Wash them, I mean."

"Fairly," Hagrid replied. "They don't really need it, Lapras generally are quite good about keepin' each other clean. But it's always nice ter spend some time with 'em. Beautiful creatures, Lapras, on the inside and the out."

Harry agreed. Being this close to Lapras Harry found that his skin was just as smooth and soft as it looked. His body was free from any bumps or abrasions. There was literally no imperfection.

Hagrid looked incredibly peaceful tending to Lapras, taking great care to be gentle as he rubbed down the water and ice type. He looked as though he didn't have a care in the world.

"I'm sorry about Madame Maxime," Harry said suddenly, breaking the silence. Hagrid stiffened.

"Where'd yeh hear tha'?" he asked gruffly. Harry swallowed.

"I overheard you ask her," Harry told him. "Sorry, I wasn't going to say anything but I felt bad that, you know…"

"Anyone else see?" Harry gulped.

"Ron and Hermione," he admitted. "And Ginny. We were on our way back from Hogsmeade." Hagrid sighed.

"Shoulda known," he muttered, resting his hands on Lapras's shell tiredly. "Tha's why yeh came ter visit me, ain't it." Harry nodded. A small smile tugged Hagrid's lips. "Yeh're a good kid, Harry."

"She shouldn't have said no," Harry told Hagrid fervently. This had been bugging him for a long time, he felt he just had to say something. "She should know she'll never find someone as good as you." Hagrid chuckled.

"Well that's very kind o' yeh Harry," he said. "But Olympe can have her pick o' the men, a woman like her. Maybe one day she'll see me the same way I see her."

"You should forget about her, Hagrid," Harry told him. "If she can't see how great you are then that's her loss. There are so many woman who wouldn't judge you just because of some article in the prophet, what makes Madame Maxime so special?" Hagrid gave a wistful smile.

"Well that's hard ter explain," he said, petting Lapras absently. "Olympe Maxime. There's jus' somethin' about her, yeh know. Something… marvellous. Yeh know what I'm talkin' about?" Harry shook his head. Hagrid laughed.

"Well, yeh will one day Harry," Hagrid chortled. "It's all part of growin' up. It was the same with yer parents. When you find someone who's special, who'll make yeh happy, then yeh just know. And yeh shouldn't let the moment slip away."

It sounded like sage advice, though Harry couldn't for the life of him understand where Hagrid was coming from. In his mind Madame Maxime was shallow and that had caused Hagrid to suffer. How Hagrid could bear no ill will was incredible. Was he simply being foolish? Or was there truth to what Hagrid had said? Was this what it was like to be in love? Harry didn't know. He'd never been in love.

* * *

The castle remained lethargic, bored, and the students inside desperately craved the normality of classes, even if it came with more work than they'd ever had before. Their wishes were answered in early January as those students that had gone home for the holidays returned and classes started again.

Yet if the idea was to return to normal then Professor Moody had clearly not got the message, as the Gryffindor fourth years found out in their very first lesson back.

"What the…?" Ron swore. Harry, Ron and Hermione were, unusually, the first to reach Moody's classroom for the first lesson back and so they were the first to see that sitting on each of the desks could be found a large, bulky computer.

"Fascinating," Hermione said as she took her usual seat, Harry and Ron sitting down to the side of her. "I wonder what Professor Moody has in mind." Her curiosity was echoed as the rest of the class filed in, each looking at the computers in a mixture of confusion and excitement. Computers weren't common in Hogwarts. Harry had never seen one.

"Alright, shut up you lot," Moody growled in way of greeting, limping into view and fixing the class with a glare from his one good eye, Murk the Murkrow as always perched upon his shoulder. "Now, unless you aren't completely dumb you will have noticed by now that things have changed. You've got computers. Switch them on."

The class obeyed the command, their general nervousness around Moody enough to override their confusion as to what was happening. Harry's computer screen flickered as he pressed the button. A loading page appeared.

"Now, while these devices are warming up I'll quickly explain what we're going to use them for," Moody told them. "In the world of Pokémon Battling the more you know the better. The more Pokémon you see and experience battling the more you can know what to expect from an opponent. But that takes time, lots of it, and it is not a practical way to prepare yourself."

He rested a gnarled hand on the computer upon his desk. "Instead we have developed a way to program Pokémon characteristics into machines," he told them. "This way you can learn what the strengths and weaknesses of Pokémon are before battling. You can see what moves they learn, predict what tactics they can use, and be better prepared to face the real thing. Now." He stomped forward.

"Are all your computers on?" Everyone nodded. "Good, then go to the top right corner and click on the icon." Harry did as instructed and his screen quickly changed. A long list of names stared out at him, slightly daunting.

"This section includes every Pokémon known to man," Moody told them. "Pick one." Harry looked over the names, startled to find some he didn't recognise, before seeing one that jumped out at him.

He clicked on Charizard.

"Now that you've picked your first Pokémon you can start deciding which moves it'll be able to use," Moody told them. "Because of our technology's capabilities only four moves are available, so choose wisely. No use giving a special attack to a physically offensive Pokémon."

Harry quickly looked through the attacks Charizard could have, picking out a few he felt could be useful, Charmeleon having already learned a couple of them.

"Alright," Moody continued. "Now that you've got started the task is to create a team of six Pokémon built around that starter. You should take into account type advantage, where your Pokémon are weak, where they are strong, and plan around it."

The team building was difficult, much more difficult than Harry had expected. There were just so many options to choose from. Starting with Charizard he realised he needed a counter to rock types but when he narrowed down his search he realised just how many options for water and grass types there were. Eventually he went for Swampert, realising it could also be used to counter Charizard's weakness to electric types. Beside him Ron was watching his screen with an interested expression with Hermione on his other side, typing and clicking away madly.

"Time," Moody called, stepping forward. "If you haven't completed your team… well tough. You had enough time." He grunted. "Now partner up. You'll see that you can challenge each other to battles. One of you create a challenge, the other accept, then you battle."

Harry quickly searched where Moody had indicated and found Ron's computer on his left, clicking it. A moment later a screen popped up indicating his challenge had been accepted and a virtual battlefield appeared, two Pokémon appearing on the screen. Both Aerodactyl.

"Thinking about Padfoot?" Ron muttered. Harry grinned.

On the screen before Harry another box had appeared, giving Harry the option of the four moves he could use. He clicked the Ancient Power, since he knew rock type attacks were strong against Aerodactyl. His attack hit and the health bar for Ron's Pokémon went down. Then Ron's Aerodactyl used Iron Head.

"Haha!" Ron cried triumphantly. The health bar for Harry's Aerodactyl had plummeted with the attack and to Harry's dismay text popped up to tell him his Aerodactyl had fainted. Was Iron Head really that much more powerful than Ancient Power?

They spent the rest of the class having battles, though most of the class only had time for one, so busy checking out the new battle simulation that they took a long time between moves. To Harry's dismay he was thoroughly trounced.

"Every other lesson we'll be doing this," Moody told them. "Each time I want you to choose a completely different team to work with. By doing that you'll get to know how the Pokémon work and you'll be much better prepared to face them in a real battle." He sent them on their way.

"That was awesome," Ron said immediately as they left the classroom. "Seriously, best class ever."

"You're only saying that because you won," Hermione told him, but she was smiling. The awkwardness between the two of them seemed to have faded since the ball, much to Harry's relief.

"I still don't get how you did it," Harry told him. "How come your Aerodactyl was so much stronger than mine?"

"Well, Iron Head's base power was higher than Ancient Power," Ron told him. "Plus Aerodactyl has much higher attack than special attack. Did you not check these things?"

Harry did his best not to feel completely stupid. It was one thing Hermione telling you you should have worked harder, it was a whole separate thing when it was Ron.

Still, Harry supposed that Moody's new classes were ideally suited for Ron's tactical brain. As classes continued and Harry got more opportunities to challenge Ron in Moody's classroom he realised just how much tactics were involved, as well as being able to predict what your opponent was going to do.

Harry found that out the hard way.

"Yes!" Ron cried as his Gliscor successfully Stone Edged Harry's Weavile into unconsciousness. Harry had just switched the dark and ice type Pokémon into battle specifically to defeat Gliscor but Ron had seen that coming a mile off.

"Good job, Weasley," Moody said approvingly. "You've picked up on this quickly. Tell me, why wouldn't that work in a real battle." Ron hesitated. Put on the spot by Moody he wasn't able to respond.

"What about you, Potter?" Moody asked, turning his attention on Harry. He too was stumped. From the corner of his eye he could see Hermione's hand raised high into the air. Moody nodded to her.

"The simulation differs from real battles in several ways," Hermione said immediately, as though reciting from a textbook. "Firstly Pokémon can't be ordered to be evasive outside moves like Double Team which means their ability to dodge in based purely on chance rather than ability. Secondly when a Pokémon switches in a real battle they don't immediately face the attack meant for the last Pokémon. No trainer would release their Pokémon until the attack was finished."

"Which is what happened in this occasion," Moody interrupted. Hermione looked as though she was just getting started. "Had this been a real battle you would not have been able to surprise Potter with that attack. Predicting Potter to use Weavile to deal with Gliscor would still be beneficial, even though Potter would have had more of an ability to work around Gliscor's counter. As it was Weavile was easily defeated. Your prediction was far more effective than it would have been in real life."

Moody's eye turned to Hermione. He nodded. "Good answer, Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor."


	18. Lapras

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Moody's new class was a smashing success and was the talk of the school as everyone hugely anticipated the next time they got the opportunity to challenge their friends in this new and fun way.

However this excitement was quickly diverted as January rolled into February and what was quickly becoming a Hogwarts tradition came round again. The Valentine's Day Battle Tournament.

The one true legacy of Gilderoy Lockhart's time as Battling Professor, the battle tournament had become a highly anticipated part of the school calendar, almost matching Quidditch in the excitement that it brought. Though the students could challenge each other whenever they felt like it nothing could match the very official nature of this tournament.

What had been forgotten last year was the range of classes that had been organised throughout the day by various professors. These were back in full force. Yet another example of Hogwarts doing its best to impress its European rivals.

Hermione, of course, was excited.

"Talks from Flitwick, McGonagall, Sprout and Snape," she said over breakfast that morning, reading from a flyer she'd picked up in the Gryffindor common room. "Even Professor Moody is doing something."

"That's the only one you'll see me going to," said Seamus. He'd joined them for breakfast this morning with Dean spending the day with Parvati. While most people would categorise the couple as 'cute' Seamus's thoughts were 'sickening'.

Despite the fact that both Harry and Ron were basically in agreement with Seamus that Moody's seminar would be the only one they'd really want to go to - although Flitwick's would be quite fun - Hermione was insistent that they go to all of them, even Snape's, and neither Harry nor Ron really felt like arguing with her.

They weren't the only ones to go to all the talks either. Ravenclaws naturally went to as many as they could and in each one Harry spotted Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang, enjoying a rather unusual Valentine's Day date. Several Beauxbatons students turned up to several of the seminars, including Fleur Delacour, and in every single lecture Viktor Krum could be found slouched at the back, unmoving, not taking notes, just watching intently.

Even with the interesting talks from the professors - and they were interesting - the real draw of the day was always going to be the battle competition, opened up to students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to compete in too. It was what was responsible for the buzz that pervaded the Great Hall at dinner. For once at Hogwarts the food was a secondary concern.

"Come on," Ron muttered, glancing up to the front of the hall, an empty bowl of dessert sitting in front of him. "I'm finished."

"Calm down," Hermione told him exasperatedly. "It'll start when it starts." Still, it was a mark of how excited everyone was that Ron was turning down food.

To Ron's relief Dumbledore soon stood up.

"If everyone has filled themselves to their heart's content," he said. "Then would you please all move into the Entrance Hall so as we can prepare the Great Hall for our annual battle tournament."

If ever there was an indication of how much people were looking forward to this tournament it was the speed at which the assembled students hurried from the hall. Within minutes they were all outside waiting and watching as the four house tables, and the staff table, were carried out of the hall.

"Potter," Professor McGonagall had wandered through the crowd, finding Harry and his friends as he stood by the far wall. "Potter, please come with me." Harry blinked.

"But the tournament!" the protest did not come from him, but Ron, and he looked perplexed.

"Will have to wait," McGonagall said sharply. "Mr Potter, with me."

Harry didn't really see what else he could do, McGonagall clearly had something important to tell him, and so he left behind a disbelieving Ron and a curious Hermione as he was led out of the front doors and onto the castle grounds.

He quickly found he was not alone in being called out, and the reason for his being there became quickly apparent.

Standing in a group not too far away from the front doors, though out of sight and ear shot of the main student body, stood the other three Tri-Pokémon champions, their head of schools, and Ludo Bagman.

"Ah-ha, you're all here," Bagman said excitedly as Harry and McGonagall approached. "Sorry to pull you out so suddenly but this is a vitally important day. One week from now the second task will take place."

Harry started. He'd almost forgotten about the tournament, since the last mention of the tasks had been a couple of months ago when they had finished the first. He had not expected the second task to come upon them so quickly.

From the looks on his fellow champions' faces they had also been lulled into thinking they had more time. Fleur looked rather pale, though she was the one with the lead, while Cedric swallowed. Krum showed no reaction.

"Like with the first task you should be warned of what you are about to face before hand," Bagman told them. "This time, though, you've been allowed more time. Why? You will soon find out." Bagman turned and walked away, leading the champions towards the crest of a hill, the same one where Harry and Fleur had talked during the Yule Ball, and stopped, overlooking the lake.

Sitting in the middle of the lake, something that had not been there yesterday when Harry had walked down to Pokémon Care, was what appeared to be a raft. It was small, no more than a few metres squared, but it was clear the work was not finished. Flying types flew overhead with wood and rope hanging from their talons, water types swam between the raft and the bank, and a set of Machamp were standing upon the small floating island, pulling together more and more wood as the platform expanded.

"It will be quite a bit bigger by next week," Bagman told them, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I believe there are plans somewhere but that's more Barty's department than mine. Still, it should provide a good challenge for you champions to face next."

"What iz ze task?" Maxime asked, having walked up behind the champions. Dumbledore, Karkaroff and McGonagall followed.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm allowed to go into full detail," Bagman told them, looking quite uncertain. Clearly Barty Crouch was the details man of the two. But again he was absent. Was he still ill?

"Lets see, Barty left me some notes," Bagman told them, rummaging for a sheet of paper in his pocket, scrunching up his face as he struggled to read in the rapidly fading light. "Alright. Okay, that's… yes." He straightened up.

"The task," he began, standing tall. "Starts upon the bank of the lake. Each champion must cross the lake, retrieve an item from the island, and return as quickly as possible. And in crossing the lake what they need is… a water Pokémon."

Harry's heart fell. Water was one of his weaknesses as a Pokémon trainer. With Talonflame and Charmeleon both weak to water type attacks and Pikachu still being quite young he would always struggle when faced with water type Pokémon. And now he needed one himself. Fletchinder was ideal for the first task but it seemed as though Harry's luck had run out.

"You'll take your water Pokémon across to the island, use a second Pokémon on the island, and then all three of you shall journey back together to complete the task," Bagman told them.

"I'll leave you four to ponder, shall I," Bagman said, watching as each of the four champions became lost in thought. "I must be getting back down to London. I'm sure Barty will be wanting a report."

"So he's not still ill, is he?" Harry asked quickly, sensing an opportunity to get some answers. Bagman hesitated.

"Well, he's not great, I'll be honest," Bagman admitted. "He's taken a lot of time off recently. Even when he's working he doesn't look… no matter, Barty's a fighter. Don't you worry about him. He'll be back on his feet in no time."

Bagman sounded confident but Harry wasn't sure how much he should take that into account. Bagman always seemed larger than life and positively exuded enthusiasm at every turn. Was he just being overly optimistic? From the slight frown on Dumbledore's face Harry knew he wasn't the only one worried.

"Well, I'm off," Bagman said. "See you all next week." And he jogged off down the hill, heading down towards the workmen by the lake and onwards towards the front gates.

"Well, I think that's that then," Dumbledore said calmly. "Perhaps it would be best if we all head back to the Great Hall. The battling tournament should be well underway by now. What do you say, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime?" Karkaroff nodded shortly but Maxime shook her head.

"I should be checking on ze Salamence," she told him. "With zem so far it iz harder to keep up." Dumbledore nodded his understanding, moving to walk back to the castle. Harry, however, wasn't so keen to leave.

"I thought you were keeping the Salamence at Hagrid's," he said loudly. Everyone turned to look at him. "If they were there you would be able to see them all the time." Madame Maxime looked uncomfortable.

"I 'ave moved zem to a place in 'Ogsmead," she said, keeping her head held high. "Zat is ze place zey will get ze best care."

"No one will be able to take better care of them than Hagrid," Harry disagreed. "He's the most caring man I know and he knows tonnes about Pokémon. He helps all sorts of Pokémon in the forest when they're hurt or unwell."

By now everyone was looking thoroughly confused, looking between Harry and Maxime. It was obvious that there was something missing and it was stumping the others present.

"Well said, Harry," Dumbledore spoke up, putting a hand on his shoulder and facing Madame Maxime. "Indeed I believe I made the same assertions when you decided to move your Pokémon from our gamekeeper's care. Of course it is your right to decide who you want to look after them but I assure you that no-one, no-one at all, will do a better job than Hagrid."

Maxime didn't look happy.

"I will think about it," she said shortly, turning away and walking down the slope towards the front gates.

"Let us hope so," Dumbledore said, giving Harry a small squeeze on the shoulder before turning away, walking back up to the castle.

* * *

By the time they had reached the castle the battle tournament had already started, much to Harry's disappointment. Having missed the draw and therefore not able to compete, Harry instead found a good place to watch as Hermione and Ron did their best, Trapinch keeping him company as Hermione wanted him to see her battle.

She was far from disappointing. As fourth years Hermione and Ron, and Harry had he been battling, were no longer in the bottom half of the rankings, instead finding themselves right in the middle, and perhaps higher given their performances. Hermione, for example, had just defeated a fifth year Ravenclaw, Misdreavus outclassing her foe's Gothorita, and was walking towards him.

"Did you see that?" she said excitedly, plonking herself down next to him. In his arms Trapinch jumped up and down excitedly.

"Yes," Harry said, smiling. "That was a good battle." Hermione beamed at the praise.

"Have you seen Ron?" she asked. "I saw him beat some Hufflepuff. I thought he'd be with you." Harry just pointed Hermione's attention across the room. "Oh."

Ron was deep in battle with none other than Draco Malfoy. It looked intense, Ron and Malfoy had clearly been exchanging more than a few choice words with each other and several of the surrounding pairs had got distracted from their own battles to watch. In front of Ron stood Arcanine, his strongest Pokémon and one with a great matchup against Malfoy's team. On Malfoy's side stood Kadabra, the evolved form of Abra and a powerful Pokémon in its own right.

"This can't end well," Hermione muttered as she watched the two boys give commands, their Pokémon leaping into action. "If Ron loses to Malfoy he'll be so upset and Malfoy will be intolerable."

"And if he wins?" Harry asked.

"Then Ron will be the intolerable one," Hermione pointed out with a small smile. They both knew their friend well enough to know that if he won he'd never let anyone forget it. "Anyway, I'm off to see who I'm battling next. See you later."

Harry waved goodbye, Trapinch following her with his eyes in rapt attention, eager to watch her battle again. The ground type Pokémon had been with them a long time now and the treatment that Hermione had been regularly administering had dropped in regularity. Given how long it took Pikachu to recover when Harry had first met him he couldn't help but think that soon it would be time for Trapinch to return to the wild.

Harry was distracted by someone sitting down next to him. Turning he found it to be Cedric.

"Alright, Harry?" he asked. Harry nodded. "Thinking about the task? I was just remembering that I saw them start on that platform earlier. You can see out over the lake from the Hufflepuff Common Room." Cedric paused, turning a curious eye on Harry. "You don't have a water type, do you?" Harry shook his head.

"What about you?" he asked. Cedric was in last place at the moment, though the scores were really quite close together. In truth any of them could still win.

"Oh, I'll be fine," Cedric said confidently. "I've got Feraligatr. No, my only problem is that he can't really carry another Pokémon back with him. I'll probably have to use Pidgeot." Harry hadn't even begun worrying about his Pokémon, so caught up over worrying about his lack of a water type. Thinking on it he was in almost as bad a situation. Neither Charmeleon nor Talonflame could face water types.

"Anyway, I just wanted to wish you good luck," Cedric told him, standing up. Cho was sitting at the other end of the hall, evidently having been knocked out of the tournament. "I'll see you next Sunday."

Harry nodded his goodbye to the Hufflepuff but he was barely conscious of him leaving, so lost in his own thoughts was he. His mind swirled as he scrambled for any way he could find a water type and train them in time for the task next week. Then a light lit up in his head. He had an idea.

* * *

"Are you sure they're down here, Hagrid?" Ron asked. They were walking down a series of corridors in the dungeons, getting steadily deeper under the school.

"Positive," Hagrid replied assuredly. He had a lantern with him, the fire inside flickering and helping to light up the dark walls of the castle. "I've been lookin' after 'em fer years. They'll be here."

Harry and Hermione followed behind in silence, waiting patiently for Hagrid to lead them to their destination. For Harry he was wracked with nerves. His idea was sound, and it was a far better option than anything else he could think up, but that also brought its own pressure. If this failed his next option was significantly worse.

"Here," Hagrid muttered, reaching yet another wooden door, except this one was bolted shut. He pulled back the bolt, the noise especially loud in the otherwise silent corridor, and pushed the door open.

They were standing at the top of a set of stone steps jutting out from a rough rock wall. The steps were roughly hewn, created more by accident than design, and they dropped off sharply to one side. Far below water was dominant.

This was the first time Harry had returned to this place since his very first day at Hogwarts when he, along with Ron, Hermione and all the other new students, had been carried across the lakes in boats pulled by Lapras. They had docked here, and met Professor McGonagall at the top of these very steps.

"There," Hermione whispered from behind him and Harry turned, looking down into the water below. As Hagrid had promised there was a whole school of Lapras floating below them, using the shelter of the inlet to protect them from the wind and rain over night.

"Follow me," Hagrid told them, starting the journey down the steps, lantern aloft. "Mind yer step. It's a big fall if yeh're not careful."

Harry, Ron and Hermione followed carefully after Hagrid, taking the steps one at a time until at last they'd reached the bottom, a decent sized slab of rock sticking out to provide them a good place to stand. On his right Harry could spot the boats, tucked away and tied to pegs dug into the rock wall, while in front of him floated the Lapras.

"Laa," a noise sounded and movement could be seen within the school. A few Lapras shifted out the way, allowing the one who had called through. Harry approached. The Lapras all looked almost exactly the same but Harry had no doubt that this was the one he had met a few weeks back and had taken him across the lake all those years ago.

"Hey Lapras," he said softly. Lapras crooned, nudging his head into Harry's hand as he went to stroke him. To Harry's surprise he found that his Lapras was noticeably smaller than the others. He posed his question to Hagrid.

"Lapras grow quite slowly," was Hagrid's reply. "This Lapras 'ere is quite young, though not like Norbert or Pikachu. He hasn't quite reached full adulthood but he'll get there soon. Another six months, a year at most." Harry nodded. That made sense.

"I was hoping you could help me out with something," he said, speaking in a soft voice to the water and ice type Pokémon. "I have a challenge next week. A tough one. And I need a Pokémon that could take me out to the middle of the lake. But I don't have one. So I was wondering…"

Harry was cut off as Lapras let out another low cry before nuzzling his head into Harry's chest, surprising him and causing him to take a step back in response to the sudden pressure. "I guess you want to help me then?" Lapras nodded. He looked straight at Harry with his big innocent brown eyes.

"See, the thing is that I'm part of a tournament and I can only use my own Pokémon," Harry continued, hoping that Lapras could understand him. "So in order to use you in the tournament I'd need to catch you."

Lapras let out another cry and nudged Harry again, this time lower, and Harry smiled. "I take it that you want to be in the team, then?" he said, looking at the Pokémon. Lapras bobbed his head. "Okay then." He picked a free Pokéball from his belt and held it up. Lapras waited patiently, showing no signs of backing out, and so Harry pressed the Pokéball into Lapras's forehead.

Lapras disappeared in a beam of red energy, the water rippling slightly from where he'd been floating. The Pokéball in Harry's hand wriggled slightly, though not enough to worry him at all. It fell still soon after and a soft 'ping' confirmed the capture.

He stood still for a moment, looking down at the Pokéball in his hand. The first part was done. Now all that was needed was training, lots of it, for Harry was sure that the task wouldn't be as simple as just crossing the water. The first task was tough, this would be too.

Hagrid clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Way ter go, Harry," he said, looking down at the Pokéball in Harry's hand. Suddenly Harry realised that maybe he shouldn't have caught one of the Pokémon the school uses to transport new students.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to catch him?" Harry asked worriedly. Hagrid waved away his concerns.

"O' course," he said gruffly. "These are wild Pokémon, Harry, jus' like the Zebstricka. They can be caught by anyone who wants to. Jus' not whilst they're workin'."

"I wouldn't mind catching myself a Zebstricka," Ron commented.

"I personally think a Lapras would be much better," Hermione countered. "Lapras would be the perfect complement to your fire types."

"Oh yeah," Ron muttered, turning to look at the Lapras. Those who had been watching quickly turned away and gave him a wide berth. "Maybe not."

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's everything for this chapter. Sorry it's late but I was just too busy yesterday to get it uploaded at the usual time.

I just wanted to address the review about possible hints to Pokemon Harry will catch. Obviously I'm not going to give anything away, as I'd much rather no one knows until the Pokemon are caught, but I do like that people are paying attention to things like this. I'm not sure if anyone noticed but I did something similar at the start of 'Dusknoir of Azkaban', where Lupin was playing PFG against Ron and using the Mightyena and Gardevoir pieces, foreshadowing Sirius's Mightyena and Gallade. I'm not saying the fact Harry used Swampert and Weavile in the simulated battles means anything but I will admit that it is something I quite like to do in my stories.

Anyway, I hope you've all enjoyed and I'll see you in the next chapter.


	19. The Second Task

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The week leading up to the second task was difficult. Harry, having successfully caught a water type Pokémon, and a good one to ride at that, now had the task of training it up and getting used to it all in one week. With that the case Harry spent almost all his time at a secluded part of the lake, far away from the construction work going on, and trained hard.

It was a struggle. Lapras, although quite strong, was still inexperienced in battle. The Lapras, particularly the ones at Hogwarts, had no natural rivals in the wild and were largely peaceful Pokémon, meaning that fights were rare. Harry frequently paired Lapras up against Charmeleon in battle and consistently Charmeleon's strength and experience would overcome Lapras's type advantage.

Harry also didn't have the luxury of being able to fall back on Charmeleon or even Talonflame for support. By necessity his second Pokémon for the task had to be Pikachu as either of his fire types being forced to battle on water was a recipe for disaster. Pikachu, while more experienced than Lapras, was still young and prone to wearing himself out quickly, despite all the work they'd put in to increasing his stamina.

Eventually the day of the task arrived with Harry feeling far from ready. Still, he likened the situation to when he had first had to use Aerodactyl for Quidditch a year ago. Then it had been a struggle too but Harry had still been able to come out on top against one of the better seekers he'd played against, Cho Chang and her Swellow.

The task was set for the morning, meaning that Harry only had the opportunity to have a quick breakfast before he was meant to be ready. He ate only a small amount, his stomach churning with nerves, which weren't helped by the various encouraging calls from his fellow students as they left to get good seats in the stands. If anything Harry was feeling worse than he had before the first task. At least then he'd had a plan.

Eventually Harry had decided that he'd had enough to eat and, ignoring Hermione's insistence that he have another slice of toast, he stood up and began the trip out of the Great Hall. Those that were left - and not in Slytherin - cheered him on his way and Hermione and Ron hurried to keep him company.

Their exit out onto the grounds was halted as Ron found himself shoved roughly out of the way.

"Watch it, Weasley," Draco Malfoy drawled, smirking at the red head as he sauntered past. "You wouldn't want to get in the way of your betters, would you." Malfoy had beaten Ron during the battle tournament and ever since had been positively gleeful about the result.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron growled angrily. It seemed that losing to Malfoy was a greater embarrassment to Ron than anything that had ever happened to him. Malfoy just smirked.

"So, Potter," he said, inevitably turning his smug look onto Harry. "What do you think's going to happen this time? I had thought you wouldn't get past the first task but here you are. Maybe you'll be able to win the whole thing." He let out a gleefully derisive laugh. It was as though the thought was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"Maybe he will," Hermione spoke up hotly, surprising Harry. "But even if he doesn't he still got picked for the tournament. Face it, you're just jealous that it is Harry that's doing well while you're still struggling in Herbology." Malfoy's face tinged pink. He looked furious.

"No one asked your opinion," he spat, all pretences of civility gone. "Just you wait until Potter gets shown up in front of the school. I'll be there to tell you how stupid you are."

"What's going on here?" If the growling voice wasn't enough to give away who had spoken the clunk of his wooden leg with every other step was. Professor Moody was limping towards them, glaring down at the students, Murk the Murkrow perched on his shoulder.

"Miss Granger was just reminding me of the champions' scores," Malfoy said smoothly, his face quickly masking his anger as he turned with an unconvincing look of innocence to Moody. Moody grunted.

"You think I'll fall for that," he growled. "Your father's a better liar than you are Malfoy and I can still tell you where his loyalties lie. Scurry along now, you're blocking the doorway."

Malfoy's face was a horrible shade of puce but, realising perhaps that he was facing a teacher, he kept his mouth shut and moved away without a word, walking out onto the castle grounds.

"Thanks, Professor," Hermione said gratefully. The anger in Malfoy's response had taken her by surprise. "But you shouldn't really have said something like that to a student." Moody snorted.

"Do you think I care?" he asked rhetorically. "Kids of death eaters don't carry much sympathy in my book and as far as I can see Malfoy junior is following in the same steps as his father."

"But still," Hermione tried to argue but Moody cut across her.

"If people can't handle the truth then they should keep a good distance from me," he said simply. "Malfoy is a piece of work but don't expect me to lie to you either just cause I like you. I'll tell the truth no matter how much you might not want to hear it." He fixed Hermione with a firm look.

"Now why don't you lot scurry off as well. I wasn't kidding when I said you're blocking the doorway." And he strode past them, the clunk of his leg fading dramatically as he walked out onto the lawn and limped out of sight.

They stood there for a moment in complete silence.

"He likes us?" Hermione eventually said, looking astonished.

"He has a funny way of showing it," Ron opined. He didn't look angry anymore, the sudden arrival of Moody cutting straight through his embarrassment. Instead he looked amazed.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, that was brilliant," he said, turning to her. Hermione blushed.

"Well, it's true," she said, leading the two boys out into the sunlight. "The reason Malfoy is so annoyed is because Harry was chosen to compete in a tournament only the best get to challenge. That fundamentally means that Harry is better than Malfoy and considering how much Malfoy tries to beat Harry at everything you can imagine how much he hates it."

"Serves him right," Ron muttered. Hermione did not disagree. Instead she looked down to the lake front and frowned.

"Ron," she said. "Is that Percy?" Ron looked up too.

"Bugger, it is," he replied, squinting against the low hanging sun to see. "What's he doing here?"

"I guess Mr Crouch must be ill again," Hermione said. "It's a long way to travel up from London, even if you just have a cold or something."

"Yeah, but to judge a task? That's way beyond Percy's pay grade."

Harry did not much care that it was Percy standing there instead of Mr Crouch, though he admitted he'd find that little tidbit interesting later. Right now he was more concerned with the task ahead. The raft in the middle of the lake had grown enormously since he'd first seen it. Now Harry could imagine the whole of Hogwarts could fit on its surface. On top of that the raft seemed to have been designed into some sort of jungle. Trees, which Harry assumed must be fake, were planted into the surface and in many areas were quite thick. Harry imagined that navigating the raft would not be as easy as he had anticipated.

"You should get going," Hermione said softly, recognising the pale look on Harry's face. "The other champions are already down there." Harry nodded in acceptance, indeed his rivals were all waiting by the edge of the lake, and prepared to say his goodbyes to his friends.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione said, giving him a quick but firm hug.

"You've got this mate," Ron said confidently, cuffing him on the shoulder. Harry took heart from this, as Hermione and Ron made their way to the stands that had been erected for spectators to watch the task, and descended the hill with what little willpower he had left.

Bagman was the first to see him approach.

"Ahoy there, Harry," he boomed, bounding up from the judges' table where Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Maxime and Percy were crowded round. "Now all the champions are here. And just in time, the task is about to start." He ushered Harry forward, leading him to where the other three champions had been lined up an equal distance apart along the lake bank. He placed Harry at the very end of the line, right next to Fleur, and retreated towards the judges' table. He reached out and picked up a megaphone and began to speak.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Bagman boomed towards the stands. "Welcome to the second task of the Tri-Pokémon Tournament." A cheer went up in the stands and Harry could tell Bagman was pleased with the response.

"That's the enthusiasm I like to hear," he told them cheerfully. "But before we begin I must explain the rules of the challenge the champions are about to face. I am sure everyone has noticed our new makeshift island. The aim for the champions is to reach this island. Once there they will have to scour the trees for a flag hidden in the foliage, bring it back, and place it into one of these place holders." He gestured down in front of the judges table. A wooden board, with four holes screwed into it, was sitting there.

"And they will have precisely one hour to do so," Bagman finished. "But, I know what you're thinking. That sounds way too easy. Fear not, the champions will not be finding this a doddle. Lurking beneath the surface of the lake and hidden upon our makeshift island are a large number of Pokémon whose sole objective is to prevent the champions from completing this task. Only the strongest, the fastest, the bravest, and the smartest will succeed."

Harry gazed out over the water and gulped. The surface was completely smooth but Harry could already imagine churning waves as vicious Pokémon attacked from out of sight. His short training time with Lapras had never felt like more of an issue.

"Of course the champions will not be facing this challenge alone," Bagman announced. "Two Pokémon will accompany them on their trip. The first, a water type, will carry them across to the island. From there the second Pokémon will help guide the champion to their flag and back to where their water Pokémon awaits. On the way back to dry land both Pokémon will accompany the champion for the final push, so, champions, choose wisely." Harry had.

"Now, we are just minutes away from the start of the second task," Bagman announced. "And in the interest of a fast start lets have our champions release their water Pokémon for the first stage." Realising that Bagman was expecting him to act Harry quickly released Lapras. Along side him Cedric, Fleur and Krum mirrored his action.

"And there you have it, the Pokémon that will be leading off this task," Bagman shouted as the crowd fixated on the Pokémon the champions had released. Harry, too, had a look.

Beside him Fleur had released a Lanturn, and Harry was encouraged to realise that his ride atop Lapras would be much smoother. He wouldn't have his legs dangling in the water. On the other side of Fleur Cedric was using his Feraligatr, as he had indicated, but on Cedric's other side, and drawing most of the looks from the crowd, was Krum's enormous Gyarados. Even when it was supposed to be still it was still generating ripples that washed over the other Pokémon.

As Bagman started describing the Pokémon the champions had picked Harry's attention moved to the champions themselves. Cedric and Krum, standing furthest away from him, were wearing shorts and short-sleeved shirts, while Fleur, making Harry feel incredibly overdressed in the Christmas jumper Mrs Weasley had sent him last year, was wearing a wetsuit, finished with short sleeve and leg holes. Where had she got a wetsuit from?

Harry's attention was brought back as Bagman finished his monologue on the champions' Pokémon and instead continued with the rules.

"We have just over a minute until the task starts so I must give one final instruction," Bagman said. "Our current leader, Miss Delacour, will be chasing a blue flag. Mr Krum will be looking for a black flag. Mr Diggory a yellow flag. And Mr Potter red. Interfering with another champion's flag will result in disqualification." Harry gulped. Okay, red, should be easy to remember.

"On my whistle we shall begin the task," Bagman said, looking at his watch. "Three, two, one." And he blew.

Harry ran forward, crossing the few steps between him and the shore in no time and quickly climbing on top of Lapras's back. His start had been quick - both Cedric and Fleur were already behind - but meanwhile Krum had flown ahead. His Gyarados was charging forward with reckless abandon and Harry was lucky to be so far away that the high waves kicked up did not affect him as much as they did Fleur and Cedric.

"Ah!" he cried as a Basculin leapt out of the water, missing Harry by inches before crashing back beneath the surface. He had not seen it coming at all. This was going to be really tough.

"If you see anything then Water Gun it," Harry instructed Lapras as he pushed on, much more alert now as a couple more water type Pokémon took a shot at him. Both were small and easily avoided now that he was expecting them.

Up ahead Krum was tearing his way across the lake, the attacking Pokémon seemingly bouncing off Gyarados's hide as Krum stood crouched just behind its head, completely at ease on the fierce Pokémon. Judging from the early going it would seem that Krum had the early advantage and would be the person to beat going into the final task. Being currently level on points with Krum put Harry in risk of falling way off the lead if he couldn't put some distance between himself and the others. He bent down to urge Lapras froward.

"Charge Beam!"

A bolt of electricity shot inches past Harry, freezing him on reflex, before striking something Harry had not spotted.

For a brief moment the Huntail hung in the air, body surrounded by sparking electricity, before it fell into the water with a splash. That had been mere moments from crashing straight into him.

Harry turned around, looking for his saviour, and found Fleur pulling up alongside him, Lanturn's light still sparking with excess electricity.

"Thank you," he said, still somewhat shocked.

"Ce n'est rien," Fleur responded, not looking at him as she urged Lanturn onwards. It took a moment for Harry to get himself together and push on himself. He'd lost vital ground.

He was the last to reach the island, jumping from Lapras's back mere moments after watching Cedric and Fleur disappear into the trees in opposite directions. It reminded Harry that he didn't know where exactly the flags were hidden.

"Pikachu, lets go," he called, releasing his electric type. Upon forming before him Pikachu's cheeks sparked excitedly. He was ready.

The floating raft was surprisingly solid underfoot but it was still incredibly disorientating. The trees were stuck close together and the leaves were large and everywhere. Harry found he couldn't see more than a few steps in front of him at any given moment and several times on his trek Harry became aware of his fellow challengers mere feet away, yet not once did he spot them.

The Pokémon made the journey so much harder. Barely a moment went by when Harry wasn't under attack. Bug types buzzed through the trees, flying types dive-bombed unexpectedly through the canopy and every so often a ground type would make an appearance, posing far more of a challenge to Harry than anything else.

Bagman's limit of one hour had seemed an easy challenge to meet but Harry was quickly becoming aware of just why they'd been so lenient. He had no idea how long he'd been searching the trees but he had the impression that he could end up lost here for hours if given the chance. The only thing that stopped him from worrying too much was the occasionally glimpses of his fellow champions. They were all struggling.

"Ah!" A cry to his left caught Harry's attention and without thinking he immediately ran over, forcing his way through the trees.

Fleur was the source of the scream, having been knocked back against a tree and becoming entangled in the branches. The Pokémon that had given her, and her Emolga, such difficulties was standing mere feet from Harry. It was a Geodude.

"Pikachu, use Iron Tail!" Harry called, not even thinking that it might be in his best interests to leave Fleur to fight back herself. The Geodude turned to face him just in time for Pikachu's tail to hit his face and he slammed into a tree at speed.

"Merci," Fleur gasped, pulling herself up awkwardly from the position she'd fallen.

"Don't mention it," Harry muttered and, after a moments indecisiveness, he left. There was still the task to think about.

Taking to the trees again produced the same result. Harry and Pikachu fended their way through the various Pokémon attacking them with no luck finding the flags. Where were they?

"Jump Kick!"

Harry had to duck suddenly as a Mankey went flying over his head, crashing into a tree with some force. From the direction in which it came there was the sound of a real scuffle and Harry, unable to resist, crept closer to see.

Krum was in battle, surrounded by a gang of Mankey, and he stood back to back with his second Pokémon, his Mienshao. There was a savage beauty as Harry watched Krum and Mienshao move in unison, countering the Mankeys' attacks and striking back with power and accuracy. Despite Mankeys' strength in numbers they were falling quickly to the incredible team they'd tried to jump.

Another ten minutes of searching finally provided Harry some success. Reaching a point somewhere in the middle of the great raft he found that the trees were thinning slightly, not much, but enough to actually make out some details ahead. Four flags sat hanging from the trees, placed in a square like pattern in the middle of this somewhat cleared space.

Harry made towards them, spotting the Gryffindor red fluttering to his right, but just a single step in he was sent sprawling.

"Ah!" he cried, hitting the ground hard, feeling Pikachu fall beside him, before looking up at what had attacked. A massive vine hung in the air above him, as thick as Harry's arm and balanced dangerously in the air before it started to withdraw and Harry was able to get a glimpse of his attacker.

A Venusaur sat before him, so green and bulky and sprouting an enormous plant that had completely obscured it from Harry's vision that he hadn't been able to distinguish it from the surrounding plant-life. It sat directly between the four flags and was glaring at Harry fiercely.

"Okay, so we need to get past that," Harry muttered, trying to process the challenge ahead. "Alright, well, we don't have type advantage." An idea sprang into his head. "Pikachu, you remember the Dusknoir last year?"

A minute later Pikachu leapt from their hiding spot. Though Harry could not see, taking refuge behind a large plant, he could feel the static from Pikachu's electric attacks. Glancing out from behind his cover Harry took note of the scene. Pikachu was charging towards the black flag, as planned, and the Venusaur was following. It was now or never.

Harry made his break the moment he saw Venusaur send out its vines for Pikachu. He trusted the electric type to be able to evade them but he himself would not and so he sprinted for his flag. Jumping up and into the lower branches of his tree he pulled the flag loose and dropped to the ground.

"Venusaur!" Harry's plan fell short at the last as Venusaur caught him. Having just regained his balance his ankle was snared by a thick vine and his leg was pulled out from beneath him, sending him crashing to the ground, mud and earth filling his mouth.

"Venu!" Venusaur cried and Harry was jerked roughly into the air, Venusaur's vine miraculously letting him go. The reason soon became clear.

Krum's Mienshao had attacked, striking the distracted Venusaur head on. Even as Venusaur now turned to this new threat, forgetting Harry, Mienshao leapt away, snaring the black flag from the tree opposite Harry and disappearing back into the trees.

"Pidgeot!" Cedric's Pidgeot swooped in from above, causing even more distraction for the hulking grass type, and Harry made his move. As Pidgeot snatched Cedric's flag from its tree Harry scrambled away, clearing the range of Venusaur's dangerous vines.

"Pika!" Harry turned to his right, spotting Pikachu racing towards him, and he gestured the tiny mouse Pokémon onwards, crashing back into the undergrowth.


	20. Tentacruel

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Harry's return trip through the trees was half as long and twice as brutal. Knowing roughly which way he'd arrived from Harry, flag clutched firmly in his grasp, plotted a course straight through the forest the way he had come, crashing through anything that stood in his path. This included an incredibly high number of Pokémon as Harry, maybe through luck or maybe because he now had the flag, was set upon by nearly everything there was to fight.

He burst out of the foliage, gasping for breath, to huge cheers from the stands. Unfortunately he wasn't the first one back. Cedric was just climbing back onto his Feraligatr, his Pidgeot flying above him, while up ahead and closing in on the finish line Krum, Gyarados and Mienshao went for glory. To cap it all off Harry had burst from the trees a good distance from where he'd left Lapras.

"Lets go Lapras!" he cried as he jumped on, Lapras meeting him half way. Fleur had appeared in the mean time and now Harry realised he was truly in a race for second, Krum too far ahead to be caught but Cedric still in his sights.

The trip back was surprisingly clear of Pokémon, which should have been a warning sign. Yet Harry was too focused on catching up to Cedric, Lapras closing the distance on Feraligatr well as they moved to within halfway of completing the journey back. Krum was almost there.

Then the water started to ripple. The waves grew larger, splashing against the Pokémon as everyone, even Krum and his Gyarados, came to a stop. Up ahead there was something moving, something blocking off their route back to the judges, and from the looks of it it was enormous.

Waves crashed into the Pokémon as the creature rose out of the water before them, separating the smooth surface and rising from the depths, a mass of blue and red until at last it had fully emerged, dark eyes staring out at them.

It was a Tentacruel, and it was huge.

"Bloody hell," Harry said, channeling his inner Ron as he looked upon the beast Harry had only thought of as Hogwarts legend.

"Mon dieu," Fleur whispered, coming up beside him on his left.

"Too right," Cedric agreed. They stared up at the Pokémon in wonder.

A black tentacle rose up out of the water, slowly and purposefully, before it turned towards them.

"Look out!" Harry yelled and the three Pokémon the champions were riding shot away as the huge tentacle smashed down on where they had been floating, causing huge waves to rise from the impact.

Harry shielded himself from the spray with his arm, squinting through the haze before Lapras had to dodge again. Another huge tentacle came crashing down where they had been with devastating force and Harry had to fight to remain atop his Pokémon.

"Let's try and go around!" Harry shouted to his Pokémon, the noise of the crashing tentacles and the shouts of the other trainers creating a deafening atmosphere. Lapras responded immediately, moving round to the right while simultaneously avoiding another deadly tentacle.

The task was no longer a competition between the champions, not anymore. It was a fight for survival against the giant Tentacruel as it rained down upon them with a non stop barrage of attacks. Even had Harry been focused on his competitors he could no longer see them, the large waves caused by Tentacruel's attacks allowing him no more than brief glimpses of what anyone else was doing.

Quickly Harry found that his idea of going round Tentacruel wasn't going to work as he'd intended. Even though Tentacruel was huge it appeared to take up even more space underwater and, even if Harry could get far enough out, Tentacruel was still able to attack, its tentacles coming down at all angles without remorse.

"Lapras, use Ice Beam!" Harry cried as yet another tentacle loomed dangerously above him. Lapras responded, freezing the tentacle over, but to Harry's horror he realised he had only made the situation worse. The now frozen tentacle came crashing down on where Harry and Lapras had just been with incredible force, washing Lapras several feet away from the waves it generated.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu cried, unleashing a large zap of electricity at another threatening tentacle which jerked away upon contact, landing a few feet to their right instead.

"Lapras, Hydro Pump!" Another tentacle was diverted to the side to allow them an easy dodge but Harry knew he was making no progress. He needed to do something, something big, to get him past Tentacruel and onto dry land. But what?

"Lapras, use Ice Beam on the water!" Harry shouted. It was a shot in the dark, a plan only half formed, but it was the best Harry had. Lapras responded immediately, firing another Ice Beam, hitting the base of another tentacle that loomed dangerously above them and freezing the water around it.

It worked. The tentacle, all set to descend upon them, found itself stuck in the air, utterly useless.

"That's it Lapras, keep freezing the water!" Harry shouted, a feeling of elation in his voice as he realised he could still do this. Lapras responded with enthusiasm, firing Ice Beams off indiscriminately at the water around him and, slowly but surely, the tentacles around them started to clear and Harry saw a way forward.

"Lapras, get onto the ice!" he called, seeing that they weren't quite as far away as he'd thought. Lapras did as he asked, throwing his body onto the ice and sliding forward at speed. They were going to do this.

"Ah!" Lapras was forced to swerve wildly, skating uncontrollably across the ice as the space he was about to slide onto cracked and broke, Tentacruel's tentacle breaking through the ice barrier and nearly striking them hard. Harry hung on for dear life as Lapras fought against his momentum, trying to guide himself straight with his flippers, but it was an uphill challenge.

"Pikachu!" Harry cried as his small electric type lost his grip of Lapras's shell, falling behind off the back as Lapras continued to fight to right himself. Without thinking Harry threw himself back, clutching on to Lapras with only his knees as one hand reached back and caught Pikachu by the tail.

Another tentacle smashed through the ice, sending Lapras reeling as Harry clung on for dear life, his left hand clutching a hold onto Lapras's shell, his right holding Pikachu.

"Pikachu! Clamber up my arm!" Harry shouted, wind rushing past him as Lapras continued on his hazardous course. Lapras was riding solo at the moment, Harry unable to give any commands as he hung dangerously from his shell to keep Pikachu from falling off.

Pikachu heard Harry's order and did what he said, twisting his body so as to wrap around Harry's outstretched hand. He crawled up his arm, now secure, and attached himself to Harry's jumper. Harry, with an enormous heave, pulled himself up into a standing position on Lapras's shell.

"Left!" Harry shouted loudly as he was almost immediately derailed. From his high vantage point he was able to see through the sheet of ice Lapras had created and he'd spotted the tentacle rising up a moment before it did, giving Lapras just enough time to dodge.

Now back in some sort of control Harry found himself a bit lost. Hanging off the back of Lapras he had been unable to tell which direction they'd been travelling and it was with some relief to find they hadn't found their way backwards. They were quite close.

But to Harry's disappointment they were one of only two still out there. On the banks of the lake, standing before the judges with their flags fluttering proudly, were Cedric and Krum. And looking beside them at the large clock marking their progress he could see that time was nearly up. They had to move fast.

"Okay, Lapras, lets do this!" Harry shouted encouragingly from on high. Lapras, taking strength from Harry's words, burst forward, towards the judges. As they flew forward Harry called out instructions, sending Lapras left or right as he studied the water below for any more surprise attacks from Tentacruel. They were getting close.

"Pika," Pikachu said from his position clutched to Harry's chest. Harry looked up.

The ice before them was cracking, and the reason for that was obvious. Tentacruel had seen their progress and had realised they were winning and had set up a trap. At least a dozen tentacles were smashing through the surface but, unlike the others, they were not raised high into the air. They writhed at ground level, crushing the ice around them and blocking Harry's path forward.

There was only one thing left to do.

"Ice Beam!" Harry cried and they charged onwards with no fear and a good amount of recklessness as Lapras fired off his attack. The tentacles were starting to react but they weren't moving fast enough, Tentacruel seemingly taken by surprise at his boldness. A ramp was growing.

"Ready Pikachu," Harry whispered as Lapras pushed forward, heading straight for the ice ramp he'd just created. Already it was starting to break apart, Tentacruel fighting back against their scheme, but Harry charged on regardless, Lapras only increasing the pace as they practically flew along the ice. They shot up the ramp and flew into the air.

"Pikachu! Thunderbolt!"

Pikachu leapt into the air, soaring high above Tentacruel's spongy head, and blasted down a bolt of lightning more powerful than any he'd ever used before. For a while everything seemed to be held in place, Harry and Lapras flying through the air, Pikachu even further above them, and Tentacruel below, grimacing in pain at the electric attack.

And then Lapras crashed to the ground, splashing loudly into the water behind Tentacruel. Harry, regaining his balance, stretched out his arms as Pikachu, exhausted from the attack, fell into them.

Lapras reached the shore without drama, Harry jumping quickly from his back and wobbling across the solid ground to where Cedric and Krum stood. There was no more than a minute left on the clock but it was more than enough as Harry, remarkably still holding his Gryffindor red flag, stuck it triumphantly down into the holder, looking up to the judges in victory.

The minute passed. Bagman raised his megaphone to his lips.

"Time's Up!"

From behind the judges' table Dumbledore put two fingers into his mouth and let out a whistle and immediately the giant Tentacruel, who had been giving the last remaining champion hell, sunk deep into the water.

Fleur Delacour, tired, wet and completely despondent, made the remaining distance to the shore in peace and, walking up to the other three champions, placed her flag down next to them. But it didn't matter. The task was over. Fleur had not completed it.

"The task is over!" Bagman shouted. "Please everyone give the champions a loud round of applause as the judges decide upon the scores! Bravo!" The crowd cheered with gusto, thoroughly enjoying the second task, and from his place on the bank Harry became aware that some were streaming out towards them.

"Well done," Hermione said, throwing her arms around him as she caught up to him.

"Nice one, mate," Ron said.

"Ruddy brilliant," agreed Hagrid. Harry just beamed. His heart was still pounding, adrenaline filling his body and he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. But it did not matter. He had completed the second task. He walked towards the lake.

"You guys were brilliant," he told the Pokémon that lay there. Lapras let out a low cry, closing his eyes peacefully as Harry stroked his beautiful blue head, while Pikachu climbed from the water and ice type's back and clambered onto his shoulder.

Movement to his left startled Harry and he turned to find that Fleur had joined him on the bank, crouching down to address her Lanturn and Emolga. She looked despondent.

"Here," Harry said, pulling his jumper over his head, Pikachu hopping quickly off his shoulder as he did so, and handing it to Fleur. There were goosebumps all over her skin and she was shaking badly. She'd be lucky to escape a cold.

Fleur looked at the offered jumper in confusion, making Harry feel quite awkward as he continued to hold it out for her, but eventually she accepted it.

"Thank you," she said softly, pulling the thick material on over her wetsuit. Immediately she looked a lot better.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the scores are about to be announced!" Bagman called, drawing Harry and Fleur back from the bank, Fleur somewhat unwillingly. "As in-keeping with the scoring of the first task each judge has awarded points out of ten to give each champion a total score out of fifty!" He explained. "Taken into account will be the champions success in the task, but also their level of invention and effort, two characteristics that should always be rewarded!"

"And so with that in mind we begin the scoring for Ms Fleur Delacour, who we choose to award thirty points!" Polite applause sounded from the crowd, which Harry joined in, but Fleur continued to look dispirited. Harry supposed she wasn't marked down too badly given how tough it had been to get past the Tentacruel, especially considering it only had her as a target by the end.

"Second we make the award to Mr Krum of forty-five points!" Bagman announced. The cheers were a bit more heartfelt now, particularly from the Durmstrang students, and as Harry politely joined in he recognised that Krum had taken the lead by a fair distance from Fleur. He would almost certainly be on top by the start of the final task.

"Third we have Mr Diggory, arriving on shore mere moments before Mr Krum, and so he is also awarded forty-five points!" If the cheers had been loud for Krum they were almost deafening now as Hogwarts roared their approval. Harry couldn't quite work out the scores in his head, the scores given for the first task a long distant memory, but he could only assume that put Cedric second behind Krum.

The only question now was where Harry would come.

"And lastly we have Mr Potter, completing the task with mere moments to spare and entertaining us all with his terrific strategy!" Bagman boomed. "Mr Potter will be awarded forty-one points!"

"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid shouted, drowning out the accompanying cries from Ron and Hermione as he ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. Harry grinned. He didn't know what exactly that score had done for him in the competition but he had an idea he was still fairly in the mix. He only trailed Krum by four points.

"And so that concludes the second task of the Tri-Pokémon Tournament!" Bagman announced, preparing to bring to an end the festivities. "Please join us again for the final task which will take place on May twenty-seventh! It's all hotting up! You do not want to miss it!"

"Well done, Harry," Hagrid said again, quieter this time, thumping him on the shoulder. "Yeh're up in second place."

"I am?" Harry said.

"Tied with Diggory," Ron told him. "Krum's got the lead but it's all tight. You've still got a chance to win this, mate." Harry grinned.

"Monsieur Hagrid," a voice sounded behind him and he turned, surprised. Madame Maxime was standing there, accompanied by Fleur, still wrapped up in Harry's Entei emblazoned Weasley jumper. She was holding herself up to her full height and Harry worried just what she had to say.

"Er, yes?" Hagrid asked awkwardly. Harry wondered if this was the first time they'd spoken since Maxime had spurned his offer for the ball.

"I 'ave been thinking," Maxime said slowly. "Very 'ard. Upon weighing my options… I think zat perhaps I was wrong to have moved ze Salamence." Hagrid blinked.

"Yeh were?" he asked, his voice hopeful. Maxime nodded.

"I 'ave 'eard great things about your care," she continued. "I would be grateful if you would resume your duties." Hagrid looked amazed.

"Of course," he said, almost too quickly. "I mean, yeah, I'll be honoured to." Maxime nodded elegantly.

"Then I shall get ze Salamence and meet at your abode," she told him. "Perhaps we can 'ave a drink while we talk about zeir care." And she left, Fleur following confusedly behind her.

"Yeah," Hagrid muttered, looking after Madame Maxime in wonderful disbelief. "Yeah, I'd like that." From beneath him Harry, Ron and Hermione shared triumphant looks.


	21. Vibrava

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

The next few days were some of Harry's best at Hogwarts. Everywhere he went people would stop to tell him just how impressed they were with his performance in the second task, students giving him compliments from all parts of the school, excluding the obvious. Even the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students occasionally gave him praise.

The biggest symbol of this new found popularity was on the giant scoreboard looking out over the castle grounds. Sitting pretty in joint second Harry had as good a chance as any to win the whole thing. After the first task he had been a one hit wonder. After two tasks a pattern was starting to emerge and it was becoming clear to everyone that Harry deserved his place on that leaderboard. He was a true Tri-Pokémon Champion.

Harry's positives did not end with the Tri-Pokémon Tournament, however. Indeed they extended to other parts of his life, in particular to Hagrid.

"I told her everythin', yeh know," Hagrid told them when they went down to visit, the giant man now reunited with the Beauxbatons Salamence. "I told her about the allegations back then an' how I'd been proved innocent but public opinion forced me ter leave the school. She was very understanding she was."

Harry personally thought it would have been more understanding to let Hagrid have his say before she'd gone about ignoring him for months on end. But he didn't want to bring that up. Hagrid looked much too happy for Harry to ruin it.

"I told her about everythin' tha' happened in yer second year, too," Hagrid informed them. "I told her all about the attacks and the chamber and you provin' my innocence once and fer all, Harry."

"Truth be told I don't think she believed me," Hagrid admitted bashfully. "I think she reckons I was tryin' ter big yeh up. Not that I'd need ter. She loves you after what yeh did fer Fleur." Harry blushed. The day after the second task Fleur had approached Harry in the Great Hall and returned his jumper, placing a kiss on his cheek for good measure before she left. Naturally that had got the whole school talking.

"Hey now, steady on," Hagrid said defensively as Ron and Hermione sniggered at Harry's embarrassment. "That was a right nice thing yeh did, Harry, an' it's what this whole tournament is supposed to be about. International cooperation, makin' friends with fellow students across the sea. Yeh should be damn proud of yerself."

Hearing Hagrid say that did indeed make Harry feel proud of himself. The giant man had always been on Harry's side, even when it had seemed like the whole school had been against him, and he had taught him so much over the years, and not just in his capacity as Pokémon Care professor. Hagrid's was an opinion he respected above most others.

"Now, who wants ter help me with the Salamence?" Hagrid asked, rubbing his hands together gleefully. Needless to say that all three of Harry, Ron and Hermione were eager for it and so they followed him out the back of his cabin, Norbert the Shelgon following dutifully as they walked out into the open air.

"Oops," Hagrid said loudly. He'd walked into a large bucket just outside the door and knocked it over, spilling water across the grass. "Drats," he cursed. "Shoulda been payin' attention." He walked over to the paddock and sloshed what little remained in the bucket into a huge water trough for the Salamence. The Salamence standing there looked at him as though to ask 'is that it?'.

"Looks like we'll have ter make a trip to the lake," Hagrid told them, waving around the empty water bucket, which even empty must have weighed a tonne. "Who's comin'?"

They all decided to go with Hagrid. It was a Saturday, therefore there was no need to rush to get back to class or a meal. In fact Harry loved to spend his weekends just like this, relaxing with his friends and Pokémon.

Speaking of Pokémon, they were accompanied down to the water not just by Norbert, but also Trapinch, sitting snugly in Hermione's arms. Trapinch was, slowly but surely, being weened off his medication and Harry had to think it wouldn't be long before he was due to be set back into the wild, probably before the end of the year. That being said he wondered if Trapinch would really want to go; he and Hermione had formed quite a bond in the time they'd been together.

"Hey now, what have we got here?" Hagrid's question brought Harry to a stop and he looked up.

Up ahead, standing by the bank of the lake, was none other than Viktor Krum, standing ready alongside his Mienshao. And they were not alone. A Buizel, an orange water type Pokémon, stood facing off against Mienshao and looked ready for a fight.

"Knock Off!" Krum cried and Mienshao swung out one of its elongated arms towards its opponent. Buizel, however, was much too quick, dodging out of the way and swinging itself around, a Sonic Boom attack being released from its tail and soaring towards Mienshao, who raised its arms to block the attack. The move hit with a crash.

The two Pokémon stood their ground, staring off against each other unflinchingly. They were clearly ready to battle it out to the end.

"Trap!" Trapinch leapt from Hermione's arms, running forward aggressively.

"Trapinch!" Hermione cried, shocked by the actions of the little Pokémon as it ran towards Buizel, shouting challenges to the water type. The Buizel looked wary, half turning towards Trapinch but keeping Mienshao in its line of sight.

But Mienshao didn't look to be using the distraction to its advantage. Instead it simply stood there, awaiting commands as Krum kept silent, watching the situation unfold before him. Harry got the impression he was intrigued.

"Trapinch, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, running up to the Pokémon and scooping it up into her arms. But Trapinch was not having any of it, wriggling and jumping free, challenging again the Buizel who still looked torn over whether to take the ground type seriously.

"Looks like Trapinch wants ter battle," Hagrid said. "But I think young Mr Krum was lookin' to catch this Buizel for himself." But as everyone looked at Krum he very deliberately turned away from the Buizel. A moment later his Mienshao was sucked back into its Pokéball.

"Why don't you battle Buizel?" Harry suggested.

"What?" Hermione gasped. Harry could only imagine the thoughts that were crossing her mind, thoughts of type advantage and Trapinch's inexperience, but Harry knew through his own experience that some of the strongest bonds were formed in battle.

"Yeah, you should totally battle," Ron agreed. "You'll be perfect together." Hermione continued to look uncertain, turning from Harry to Ron to Hagrid and then to Krum, but seeing no resistance.

Hesitantly she stepped forward. "Okay Trapinch, lets do this." Trapinch let out a battlecry, setting himself for battle. Buizel readied himself too.

"Trapinch, use Mud Slap!" Trapinch dug into the dirt at his feet, flinging it with surprising ferocity towards the Buizel. Buizel, however, leapt agilely away, water foaming in his mouth as he blasted it towards the target of Trapinch. Trapinch jumped back, adeptly avoiding the attack.

"Use Sand Attack!" Hermione called, trying to obscure Buizel's vision. It seemed a fruitless effort, sand rising in clumps between the two Pokémon not nearly doing enough to impair Buizel's vision, though it was getting quite thick.

"Bui!" Buizel cried, charging through the sand. Worryingly its fist was surrounded by an icy white energy, an Ice Punch doing tremendous damage if it was to make contact. Yet what Harry could see, and what Buizel could not, was that Trapinch was no longer there. He'd dug himself underground.

"Bui?" Buizel looked confused, having exited the sand cloud and now finding himself alone, though not for long. For beneath its feet Trapinch rose, opening its jaws wide and clamping them down hard around Buizel's torso. Harry saw Ron flinch. Clearly the memory of Trapinch's bite had not left him.

"Great Trapinch, keep it up!" Hermione yelled encouragingly, looking delighted at how the battle was turning out. Buizel was still struggling, though its hands were trapped tightly to its body and it seemed unlikely that it would be able to break free from Trapinch's unshakeable grip.

Yet Buizel was not without a few tricks. As it seemed almost certain that Trapinch would come out the victor water sprung up around the Pokémon trapped in its jaws and Trapinch's eyes widened in shock. He released his grip on reflex, Buizel shooting away surrounded by its Aqua Jet attack and coming to land some distance away, looking quite shaken by the event.

Trapinch was still struggling to recover.

"Trapinch!" Hermione cried, hurrying up to the Pokémon as the ground type let out a hacking cough. It seemed like water had got caught in his throat and he looked in deep distress. Then he started to glow white.

"Oh," Hermione said softly, watching as Trapinch shone. The small Pokémon seemed to rise up into the air, his body shifting and changing as he went. Wings sprouted, unmistakable even in the brightness of evolution, and at last the glow started to fade to reveal Trapinch's new form.

"Vibrava," Hermione said, sounding quite unprepared for what had happened. Vibrava let out a buzzing noise in response, his wings vibrating so fast that it appeared that the sound was coming from them rather than his mouth.

"Wow."

"Eh, Hermione," Ron said awkwardly, shifting slightly on his feet. "Not to interrupt or anything but… well, aren't you in the middle of something." This seemed to snap Hermione back into focus and she looked up to where Buizel stood, now recovered from his altercation with Trapinch's jaws. He looked determined.

"Okay Vibrava, let's do this," Hermione said, her voice matching Buizel's determination. Vibrava flew forward eagerly, no longer consigned to wandering the ground, and buzzed towards his target. "Use Screech!"

Buizel's determined expression faded almost immediately as an unearthly sound emanated from Vibrava, causing everyone in the vicinity, including Buizel, to cover their ears.

"Now Sonic Boom!" Hermione cried over the noise. Vibrava twisted his body and then pulled it back sharply, a blade of air flying the distance between the two Pokémon. Buizel, shaking its head from the noise, became aware of the danger just in time to dodge. "Sand Tomb!"

For a second time Buizel was trapped, this time in the ground as earth rose up around it and held the water type where it stood, restricting all of its lower body movement as Buizel struggled to free itself. It looked as though it was going to try another Aqua Jet, having been successful with it last time, but it hadn't made the move quickly enough.

"Sonic Boom!" The attack struck the motionless Buizel head on, blowing the Pokémon out of its dirt cage and knocking it flat on its back. Buizel did not get up again. It lay there, panting heavily, clearly defeated.

Harry turned to Krum. "Well, are you going to catch it?" Krum shook his head.

"It is not mine to catch," he said simply. "That honour belongs with the victor." He turned to Hermione.

"Me?" Hermione gasped, shocked. "But you were battling… I don't even have a Pokéball."

"Here," Ron mumbled, jogging up behind her and slipping one of his own unused Pokéballs into her unresisting hand. She looked at it in surprise, looking almost as though she did not even recognise what it was, before a steely look came over her features.

"Ok, I'll do it," she said defiantly, straightening up.

"Yeh better hurry now," Hagrid pointed out. "Buizel ain't stayin' down for long." It was true, Buizel had already recovered enough energy to struggle into a sitting position, though it was still looking very battered and bruised. In time Buizel could still make a break for it.

"Alright," Hermione said, holding the Pokéball up and clutching it tightly. "Here I go." And she tossed the Pokéball forward.

The Pokéball seemed to hang in the air for an age, closing in on its target, but Buizel did not move. It was hit, dissolving into a stream of red energy as it was sucked inside the Pokéball. The Pokéball hit the ground and rocked, violently. Buizel, though weak, was still fighting to break free. A second shake, then a third shake, and then the Pokéball fell still.

Ping.

The soft noise signifying capture sounded loud across the lake bank as the trainers watched on and it took a moment for it to settle in that the capture had been successful. Hermione walked forward, picking up the Pokéball delicately, looking as though she couldn't believe it.

"Look what we did, Vibrava," she said softly. Vibrava buzzed in delight.

* * *

There was, of course, a downside to Hermione's capture of Buizel, and it was one Harry had seen coming earlier that same day.

Pokémon evolution, for whatever reason, was a remarkable healer. It had done an incredible job on Fletchinder when he evolved into Talonflame, curing injuries sustained that had taken the fire and flying type a year to recover from naturally. The same was true for Vibrava.

"Vibrava is in excellent condition," Madam Pomfrey told them professionally. "There is no need to continue with his treatment. He is more than ready to live life on his own."

And so it was goodbye, as they'd all known it would eventually be. And there wasn't any point in dragging it out.

The very next day Harry, Ron and Hermione walked out towards the forest, not talking, not making even the slightest of sounds. In Hermione's case she hadn't said anything all morning.

For Harry and Ron it would be difficult to say goodbye to Vibrava, the Pokémon having been a constant throughout the year so far. For Hermione it would be near impossible. Since the train journey at the beginning of the school year when Hermione had taken responsibility over Trapinch at Ron's behest the two of them had been inseparable. Every day, without fail, Hermione had administered the many varied medications that Trapinch required to remain healthy and over that time Trapinch had taken her heart. And now it was being broken.

The path into the forest they were taking had been recommended by Hagrid, leading straight into the heartland of territory that would be perfect for Vibrava to live in. Harry supposed it would be good to know that they could always visit. Just seeing where Vibrava was going to be living was a small comfort for the trio.

The path they were following was unusually full of Pokémon, though Harry quickly realised it must have been because they were being so silent. Usually Pokémon avoided humans when they could but at the moment all sorts of Pokémon were crawling obliviously across their path.

They wouldn't be oblivious for long.

A Pokéball on Ron's belt burst open suddenly and, as he had many times over the course of the year, Pig the Pidgey appeared without being called on. The only confusion came from the fact that there wasn't any food for Pig to gorge himself on. What was he doing?

"Pig?" Ron questioned, equally as confused as the others, but Pig payed him no attention, looking around the trees before his eyes found a Machop, minding its own business up ahead, and dove towards him.

"Pig!" But Pidgey wasn't paying him any attention. Machop, wide eyed, was caught completely off guard as the diminutive flying type crashed into it, knocking it onto its back. It was quick to get back up though.

"Pig, cut it out!" Ron yelled but again Pidgey ignored him, swooping round in a second attack. This time, however, Machop was ready. The fighting type leaned to the side as Pig attacked, dodging and taking hold of the flying type in its fists. It turned on the spot and threw Pig, using all of his built up momentum against him, and he went crashing into a tree.

"Well, you can't say you didn't deserve that," Ron told his Pokémon as he hurried up to him. Machop, thankfully, seemed more confused by Pig's surprise attack than angry and didn't seem eager to continue the fight. It turned to leave.

"Pidgey!" Pig cried, rising into the air suddenly, shrieking after his opponent. Again Machop seemed more surprised and confused than anything as again Pig flew towards it, this time speeding forward at an alarming rate, so fast that Machop wasn't given the chance to dodge. It was struck hard, rolling on its back and back up onto its feet. Now it was angry.

"Ma!" Machop shouted, pulling back a fist. It became surrounded in white energy, deadly, and in a moment Machop had launched its devastating Ice Punch and sent Pig flying. The little Pidgey tumbled in the air, straightening himself out just before reaching his trainer, and glared back at the Machop.

And then he started to glow.

"Bloody hell!" Ron swore loudly as his Pokémon evolved unexpectedly right in front of him. "Pig? What on earth?!" Pig the Pidgey was no more. Now Pig the Pidgeotto fluttered in his place.

"I guess that's why he came out," Harry said quietly, somewhat shocked by the sudden turn of events. "He must have felt that he was close to evolving and decided to push himself all the way."

"Great timing, isn't it," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. But he was smiling. "Alright Pig, lets see what you can do. Hit him with a Quick Attack." Pig chirped excitedly and in a flash shot off, closing the distance between the two Pokémon in an instant and sending the Machop sprawling. "Yes!"

But Machop wasn't done. The gutsy fighting type pulled itself roughly to its feet, all thoughts of leaving the conflict gone from its mind as it glared at Pidgeotto. Machop then closed its eyes, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. Then it charged.

"Quick, Pig, Gust!" Ron called as the Machop made up ground with phenomenal speed. Pig, flapping his wings wildly, blew a huge gust of air towards the advancing Pokémon. Machop braced itself, trying to fight its way through the wind, its hand glowing with the energy of a Karate Chop. But the wind was too powerful. Soon Machop found itself lifted up off its feet, completely at Pig's mercy.

"Wing Attack!" There was no way for Machop to dodge, caught high in the air as it was, and the Pidgeotto's attack caught it full in the chest. Machop was sent crashing back to earth, slamming into the base of a tree and not getting up.

"Alright, Pokéball go!" Ron shouted excitedly. He flung a Pokéball at the prone Pokémon, striking his defeated opponent on the head as it was sucked inside. The Pokéball shook three times and then lay still, a soft ping announcing the capture.

"Yes!" Ron cried excitedly, running forward to pick up the Pokéball. "We did it Pig! Great work!"

"Congratulations Ron," Harry said simply. It was an impressive achievement but it wasn't really the time to be celebrating. Ron, catching on quick, lost his grin as he looked to the third member of the group.

Hermione had not said a word.

"We should go," Harry said quietly, looking from Hermione to Ron who swallowed. Harry could tell he wanted nothing more than to celebrate Pig's evolution and Machop's capture but he couldn't do that. Not in front of Hermione.

They walked on in silence. Even the Pokémon had gone now, scared away by the sound of Pig's battle with Machop, so nothing could be heard but the soft breeze that whistled through the trees.

"We're here," Harry said shortly, pulling up as they entered a small clearing. It wasn't that dissimilar to any of the other clearings they'd passed but Harry remembered it from when Hagrid had shown him earlier. "Are you ready, Hermione?" She didn't look it.

"Just give me a minute," she told him, turning away from the two boys and facing out into the empty forest beyond. From her outline Harry could see she was taking deep, even breaths. This wouldn't be easy.

Hermione picked up Vibrava's Pokéball.

"Vibrava, come out," she called, pressing the button and releasing the Pokémon within. Vibrava appeared, accompanied by the buzz of his wings as he hovered airborne in front of her. The Pokémon had no idea what was happening.

"It's time," Hermione told the Pokémon, her voice shaking. Vibrava tilted his head. He didn't understand.

"It's time to go," Hermione said more clearly. "Your home is in the forest. You're all better now. It's time to go."

It was painful to watch. Vibrava didn't understand. He hovered in front of Hermione, looking at her quizzically, but Hermione kept her mask up, her jaw strong.

"Go on," she said, and her voice caught. "This is where we part. You're free to go." Vibrava reacted hesitantly. He hovered away slightly, turning back to look at Hermione every few feet, before reaching the line of the trees. He stopped.

"Go," Hermione said, more firmly, and her voice cracked. "Go. Now." Vibrava continued to hesitate, hovering just within the line of trees, and then he was gone. The leaves ruffled as he passed but soon the vibration of his wings was lost to the sounds of the forest.

Vibrava had left.

A sniff caught Harry's attention, pulling his eyes away from where he had lost seen Vibrava, and he turned to look at the source.

Hermione was standing stock still where she'd said goodbye, her back still turned to Harry and Ron. Her shoulders were shaking.

"Hermione?" Harry said tentatively, sharing a worried look with Ron. She let out another sniff, her hair covering her face. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry," she whispered, so softly he almost didn't hear her. He used his hand on her shoulder to turn her round so she was facing him. Tears were streaming from her eyes, running tracks down her face as she sniffed again before looking up at Harry.

He hugged her, clutching her tight to him. He couldn't see her from this position but he quickly felt his shirt get wet where her head was resting and she grasped tightly onto the back of his shirt.

Standing behind Hermione Ron looked helpless. He didn't say or do anything, he just watched as Hermione cried endlessly into Harry's shoulder. Harry felt like he should say something, try and comfort the distraught girl, but all platitudes sounded hollow in his mind. And so he just held her, hoping that, somehow, she would understand that everything would be alright.


	22. On The Cusp

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

It took Hermione a long time to get back to normal after that afternoon. She'd been attached to Vibrava, caring for it as she had as though it were her own Pokémon, yet she had known deep down that he had to be let go. And so, proving once and for all why she was put in the house of the brave, she had let him.

For some time Harry and Ron were at a loss as to what to do to try and break Hermione out of her funk but they soon discovered that they didn't have to do anything at all. With exams approaching the level of homework laid upon the fourth year students was immense and Hermione quickly found solace in her work, Harry and Ron dutifully studying with her without complaint.

Of course the studying seemed a little pointless as far as Harry was concerned. As a Tri-Pokémon champion he was not required to sit any end of year exams, something that had Ron immensely jealous. Still, Hermione imparted on Harry that it wasn't for exams that they had to learn all of this stuff, it was for their future careers as Pokémon trainers, and so he did his homework with little complaint.

A reminder of his role as a Tri-Pokémon champion came on a Thursday in late May, with exams just weeks away, when Professor McGonagall held him back after class.

"The champions are meeting down at the Quidditch pitch at 9 o'clock tonight," McGonagall said in her usual no-nonsense style. "If you will meet me at quarter to in the Entrance Hall I will escort you."

Just what it was he had been called for was a matter Ron and Hermione took great interest in.

"Maybe they're going to tell you about the task," Hermione suggested as they sat at the Gryffindor table. "Like how they did for the first and second tasks." Ron disagreed.

"But the tasks still a month away," he told her. "That's still a long time until he actually has to do it."

"Yes, it is, but don't you see," Hermione said urgently. "It's _exactly_ a month until the task. And you've been getting more and more notice for the tasks as they've gone on. You had one day for the first task but a whole week for the second."

"But that was because they needed to make sure we all had a water Pokémon for the second task," Harry countered. "Otherwise they wouldn't have given us any warning at all." But even so he admitted that what Hermione was saying made sense. And moreover the last task was supposed to be the hardest, who knew what he would require to complete it.

But that sort of thinking wasn't constructive and instead he turned his attention to the clock above the doors of the Great Hall.

"You have to go soon," Ron commented, following his gaze. Harry's stomach felt knotted.

"You'll be alright, Harry," Hermione told him, noticing at once Harry's nervousness.

"Yeah, you're not actually doing the task right now, are you," Ron pointed out.

"That happens next month," Harry finished dryly, although their words had helped him. Out of the corner of his eye Harry spotted Cedric rise from his seat. "I should go. See you later." And he stood up.

"Hey Harry," Cedric muttered as he passed, Harry falling in stride with the Hufflepuff sixth year as they walked down between their respective house tables. "You alright?"

"Good enough," Harry answered. He knew Cedric understood. "What about you? Do you have any idea what this is?" Cedric let out a breath.

"Well, they're going to explain the task, aren't they?" he said as though it was obvious. "Either that or its some media thing." Harry scrunched up his face. The less he had to talk to Rita Skeeter the better.

They had reached the Entrance Hall.

"Potter. Diggory. You're here," McGonagall acknowledged. She was standing by the doors out to the grounds, standing off just to the side. Professor Sprout, Cedric's Head of House, was also present. "Let's go."

The walk down the grounds was quiet. From the expressions of McGonagall and Sprout Harry was now completely sure this meeting was to do with the final task. They were much too quiet. Sprout in particular was usually such a friendly sort, her anxious frown was something not usually seen outside of times of great strife.

The walk itself was somewhat peculiar. Harry had walked this path many times before, McGonagall and Sprout leading them on a straight line to the Quidditch Pitch from the castle doors. It felt weird walking down at such a late hour, though night had not yet fallen, and it felt even stranger to do so without the familiar bubbling mix of nerves and excitement for another Quidditch match in front of the school. There were only nerves now.

Harry's walks to the Quidditch pitch usually concluded with him heading into the Gryffindor changing rooms where he'd change into his Quidditch gear and psych himself up for the match. Instead McGonagall and Sprout led the two champions through the entrance frequented by the spectators, a wide arch that led into the stands and beyond, opening up onto the edge of the playing field. This is where they ended up, and they found themselves in the presence of Fleur, Krum, Maxime, Karkaroff, Stefanov, Bagman, and, finally, Dumbledore.

They all turned as the final two champions approached.

"Ah, all here," Bagman said, jumping slightly as though caught unawares but grinning broadly as Hogwarts's representatives approached them in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. "Excellent, now lets crack on them, hm."

"Why are we 'ere?" Fleur asked. She looked paler than usual and Harry had to assume she'd already guessed the answer, like he had. Bagman, however, did not seem to pick up on this. Instead he chuckled.

"Why, isn't it obvious, Ms Delacour," he said, causing her to frown in annoyance. "The third task, the final obstacle in the way of one of you lifting the Tri-Pokémon cup, and it will take place just one month from today, on this very spot." Harry blinked.

"Here?" Cedric asked. "On the Quidditch Pitch?" Bagman nodded.

"On the very spot I'm standing on will sit your goal," Bagman informed them. "But in order to reach said goal you will have a number of obstacles in your way. Eighteen obstacles, to be exact."

Eighteen obstacles? That sounded like an awful lot. And why was the number eighteen setting something off in his brain? He glanced at Dumbledore. He, at least, seemed to have figured out what was going on.

"These obstacles," Dumbledore said calmly. "I take it they will be Pokémon?" Bagman beamed.

"You've got it, Dumbledore," he boomed happily. "Eighteen Pokémon. Eighteen Pokémon, one of each of the types in the Pokémon world, will be standing between you and your goal. Only by defeating each of these Pokémon in battle, one by one, can you complete this task, and only the first to do so will be crowned Tri-Pokémon Champion."

"What are ze rules?" Maxime asked, coming to stand behind Fleur as she looked down on Bagman. Bagman lifted a finger into the air.

"One rule," he announced, looking round at the assorted people on the pitch. "One restriction. The only thing you champions need for this task is one Pokémon. No switches, no swaps, the Pokémon you start with will be the Pokémon you end with. Choose wisely because you will be tested in every way imaginable. Only a Pokémon capable of taking on all foes and coming out triumphant will lead you through this task."

"And how are the Pokémon chosen?" Karkaroff asked sharply. "It would be unfair if the host school were to be given weaker Pokémon, would it not?" Bagman hesitated.

"That will be something we will look to sort," he admitted. "We have all the Pokémon for the task ready and assigned to the individual champion but if you have any queries about any of the Pokémon…"

"I might," Karkaroff said nastily, glaring at Bagman.

"Perhaps we could take this conversation up to my office," Dumbledore said calmly. "I'm sure all three of us Heads of school will be most interested in ensuring the final task is carried out in a fair and just style."

"Oui," Madame Maxime agreed heartily. Karkaroff remained silent.

"Well then, I think I can do that," Bagman told them with a nervous laugh. "Your office, then, Dumbledore. Fortunately Barty sent someone with the details. Lets go then."

It was only when the three heads of schools, followed by Bagman and Stefanov, walked towards the exit of the Quidditch pitch, did Harry notice there had been another man standing out by the perimeter, and with a jump he realised that it was none other than Percy Weasley.

Of course, after getting over the initial surprise, the question that came to Harry's mind was 'where was Mr Crouch?' He'd been noticeably absent from the tournament for some time and again it appeared that he had not bothered to make the journey north, leaving Bagman alone with the aid of a, admittedly talented, junior employee. Something just wasn't adding up.

A breeze swept across the quidditch pitch, ruffling Harry's clothes as he watched the grownups leave, and he suddenly realised that the champions were on their own. Harry didn't think that had happened before. Not for a long time, at least.

The rest of the champions were just as silent as he was. Fleur looked worried, watching her headmistress leave with a frown, whilst Krum's eyes were calculating. Harry was sure he was already thinking about the best Pokémon to bring to the task.

Cedric let out a long breath.

"Well," he said, turning to his fellow champions. "I suppose this is it." There was no reply to his words. Silence fell over the group as quickly as it had been broken.

"We should be getting back," Harry murmured. It was starting to get cold.

One by one the champions started to make their move towards the exit, starting with Cedric, then Fleur, and then lastly Krum, fixing Harry with one long, searching look before following his competitors out.

Despite having been the one to suggest they leave Harry did not. He stood alone at the centre of the Quidditch pitch, feeling the cool air brush against his face, and wondered about what would happen a month from now.

The stands would be full, Harry knew, just like they always were for a Quidditch match. But who knows, there might be more people. With the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students there would be more eyes than ever focusing down on him from up above and the pressure would be immense. This is what he had signed up for, a platform on which he could prove he was worth something beside his name. It was fitting it would take place in the one location Harry had never felt the need to prove himself.

And in a month, when he and Charmeleon stood here, for it could only be Charmeleon he was going to bring for the task, he would put it all out on the line. He would show the crowd everything he had, everything he could bring, and if that wasn't enough than it wouldn't be and he'd have to deal with that. But he was never going to walk away from this feeling as though he hadn't tried. The first task and the second had both pushed Harry further than any class or Quidditch match ever had but they hadn't pushed him to his limits. He had more, so much more left in him. And in one month, on June twenty-fourth, he would show them all what he was truly made of.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi there, sorry this is such a short chapter. Fortunately, though, we're really getting into things after this. What we have here is, in a sense, the calm before the storm. Hope you've enjoyed it and I'll see you in the next chapter.


	23. Ambush

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

In the month before the final task Harry did not let a single moment pass him by in his quest to be as prepared as possible for the trial he was due to face. With Charmeleon by his side he trained mercilessly, battling Ron and Hermione and Lapras, Pikachu and Talonflame on top of that, again and again and again.

One of his best opportunities for doing this came in Professor Moody's classes. Split half between practical and half between theoretical battling Harry had ample opportunity to battle as many of his classmates as possible. Neville, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, even Blaise Zabini became his opponent for a day, offering Harry a challenge he had never experienced before.

Still, after all that, he felt unprepared as the days rolled by and the third task loomed closer. Every night Harry would mark off another day on the calendar sitting by his bed and with every day and every new red mark Harry would become more and more aware of time running out.

He responded by throwing himself even further into training, sometimes even skipping classes when he got too caught up in his battles, though few teachers bothered to get him into trouble for it. It seemed like most of Hogwarts' professors, Snape excluded, cared more about their chances of beating Durmstrang and Beauxbatons than they did about the rules.

Still, some of the teachers weren't so pleased for different reasons. On more than one occasion Professor McGonagall held him back after class to question his training. Harry got the impression she thought he wasn't taking care of himself.

Which is the thought Harry had in mind as he sat at a table in the Gryffindor Common Room, scribbling out a halfhearted effort at his Statistics essay, when Professor McGonagall entered the room.

The whole house fell quiet as they noticed her appearance, McGonagall only usually venturing into the lion's den when there was big news to be shared, but McGonagall ignored the majority of the students. Instead her eyes scanned the room and focused on Harry.

"Mr Potter," she said shortly. "Come with me." Harry blinked, surprised by her abruptness. Even McGonagall wasn't so rigid.

The Physiology professor had not even waited to see his response, turning on the spot and walking out of the common room as though expecting Harry to follow her. Which he did. Professor McGonagall was not a teacher you wanted anger.

"Professor?" Harry started as he found McGonagall waiting in the corridor outside the common room but she immediately walked off, causing Harry to have to hurry along behind her. "Professor, where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," she said shortly, again not giving anything away, but Harry frowned. He thought he knew McGonagall quite well by now, having seen her in all manner of tense and dangerous situations, and he couldn't help but feel that McGonagall's terseness was coming from worry, not anger. Had something happened?

As expected he didn't get a response from the professor as she led him through the school, leaving Harry to try and guess at scenarios that could involve him and have McGonagall so worried. The problem was there were just too many possibilities.

The options were narrowed as Harry realised where they were headed; the Hospital Wing. Yet that only raised more questions. Was someone sick? Who? All Harry's Pokémon were on his belt and Ron and Hermione had been up in Gryffindor Tower with him.

"Professor, what's going on?" Harry tried again as they arrived at the doors to the Hospital Wing. "Why are we here?"

McGonagall didn't answer, though it seemed she was tempted to, hesitating in opening the door. But eventually she stuck by her silence and pulled the door open without a word, shepherding Harry inside.

Immediately Harry could tell this was Tri-Pokémon related. Cedric and Krum were both already there, sat in silence and, in Cedric's case, looking very nervous. Karkaroff and Stefanov were also there, standing by Krum, and so too was Dumbledore, standing at the far end of the Hospital Wing where a pair of curtains had been drawn around the end beds, the rustle of movement from Madam Pomfrey occasional audible behind it.

Nobody spoke, presumably waiting for Fleur and Maxime to arrive too, and they soon joined them, Maxime looking as concerned as McGonagall and Fleur looking as confused as Harry felt. As they had at last all assembled Dumbledore started to speak.

"For the benefit of those currently unaware," Dumbledore nodded to Harry and Fleur as he said this. "I have gathered you together to alert you of a disturbing series of attacks that have occurred over the course of the evening." Harry's stomach lurched. Attacks?

"All victims are in stable condition," Dumbledore continued, correctly identifying Harry's worry. "But they are in need of care. These attacks are very serious."

"My Feraligatr was attacked," Cedric told Harry and Fleur.

"As was Mr Krum's Staraptor," Dumbledore noted. "We do not yet know who is behind these attacks, or for what reason they are being carried out." This appeared to be too much for Karkaroff.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said harshly, his expression furious. "Sabotage! I expected better. Are you not the one to talk about fair play, Dumbledore, huh!" The accusation left the room silent.

"Monsieur Karkaroff, you are impossiblé," Maxime said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Dumbledore would never attack his own students. Non, ze culprit iz not acting for 'Ogwarts' benefit."

"That may not be entirely true," Dumbledore said carefully. "We do not know exactly why these attacks are being carried out. It is entirely possible that someone is hoping to influence the results of the tournament in favour of a certain champion. Or perhaps this is simply an attack in jealousy on the champions themselves. Without catching the attacker we cannot know." He turned to fix a firm eye on each of the champions.

"That is why I am warning you all now to be on highest alert," he told them warningly. "The person behind these attacks, whoever he or she may be, has access to Hogwarts grounds. Without knowing their motive we must act as though they intend to carry out further attacks on all of you. Do no go anywhere alone."

"In the meantime myself, along with Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff, will look into finding who has attacked these Pokémon," Dumbledore finished. "Hopefully we will be able to avoid any more incidents and the third task will be able to go ahead as planned."

And they were dismissed. Professor McGonagall, having been standing behind Harry while Dumbledore was speaking, stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder to guide him from the room. As she did so Harry let his eyes wander across the infirmary. Krum looked angry, sitting on a bed and glaring into the floor, while Cedric looked concerned. Maxime and Fleur had already left and Karkaroff, clearly furious, was getting Krum moving.

And then there was Stefanov. He was silent, as he almost always was. Indeed, Harry hadn't heard him speak since the conversation he'd overheard between the Durmstrang teacher and Professor Snape. Instead Stefanov watched, his eyes focused on everything. Sirius's warning rang in his ears. Could Stefanov be behind this?

Whether he was or wasn't Harry made sure to take a lot more care than he had before. He made sure he was never alone whenever he was outside the safety of Gryffindor Tower. Usually Ron and Hermione were more than willing to stay with him in light of the recent attacks but even then Harry found his training time dramatically cut short.

Ron and Hermione, though good friends and eager to help Harry in whatever way they could, had their own issues to worry about. Exams were upon them and while Harry did not need to sit them for Ron and Hermione they were necessary and required good grades if they wished to progress to the next year of schooling.

Not only did that mean that when Ron and Hermione were studying Harry was trapped inside, unable to properly train, it became a lot worse when the week of the final task came upon them and Hermione, Ron, and everyone else in the school, apart from the champions, had to sit exams.

On days when Ron and Hermione had to sit their exams Harry was forced to be chaperoned by the pair of them after breakfast every morning back to Gryffindor Tower and collected once the two of them had completed their exam, cutting out hours of potential training time during the week.

That was until Wednesday, the second to last day of exams, where Ron and Hermione were due to tackle Pokémon Battling in the morning and Statistics in the afternoon.

"Hermione, stop it," Ron growled. Hermione, as was usual before an exam, was listing everything she could remember to herself about the subject matter, as always driving Ron crazy.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm just so nervous. Who knows what Professor Moody will put in his exam." It was a valid concern. Despite the fact that they weren't battling any less than they had been under Professor Lupin most of what they did with Moody could be classed as practical, rather than theoretical. Harry could barely guess what sort of questions they'd be set.

The three of them set off with plenty of time before the exam, Harry having to be escorted up to the Common Room first, but they found themselves brought short as Professor Moody clunked into their path.

"Going somewhere?" he growled, his eye fixed on Harry. Harry frowned.

"I was going to my Common Room," Harry told him, wondering why it mattered. Moody grunted.

"No you're not, you're coming to my classroom," Moody said and he stalked off, his fake leg clunking with every step.

"But Professor Moody," Hermione spoke up, bringing the intimidating man to a halt. "Harry doesn't need to sit the Pokémon Battling exam, all champions are exempt from end of year examinations."

Moody stared at Hermione for a long moment, eyes unblinking, before turning to Harry.

"I know you don't have to do end of year exams, Potter," Moody told him. "But you're doing mine. Now move it, you're going to be late." And he clunked away, limping up the stairs and out of sight.

"Weird one, isn't he," Ron muttered as he looked after where Moody had disappeared. "Wonder why he wants you taking the exam?" Harry wondered too but there wasn't exactly anything better he had to do with his time so he accompanied Ron and Hermione up to the Pokémon Battling classroom where they were brought short at finding the whole year waiting outside.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked anxiously, looking at the assembled students lined up down the corridor. "Why is everyone out here?"

"Moody's doing the exams one by one," Parvati Patil told her nervously. It seemed the prospect of being alone in the same room as Moody was making the situation even worse for the not very bookish girl.

"Hey Harry, what are you doing here?" Dean noticed Harry's presence, more relaxed than his girlfriend.

"Moody wants me sitting the exam," Harry told him. "I figured it was better than sitting in the dormitory all morning." Dean was about to respond, whether positively or negatively Harry didn't know, but he was interrupted by the door to Moody's classroom opening.

"Brown, Lavender," he barked, eyes searching through the crowd of students until they found the girl. "Get in." Lavender wandered over nervously, looking around at her fellow students for support, but eventually had to go it alone.

The door slammed shut behind her.

For over fifteen minutes the door remained closed, leaving the assorted students outside to wonder just what was going on in there, before the door suddenly opened again and a slightly pale faced Lavender reappeared.

"McMillan, Ernie," Moody said, appearing in the doorway behind the Gryffindor girl. Poor Ernie McMillan was the second to face the walk alone into Moody's classroom and again the door slammed shut behind him.

Immediately Lavender was inundated with questions.

"What was it like?" Parvati asked. "What did he make you do?" But Lavender just shook her head.

"He said if I told anyone he'd fail me," Lavender said, though the rest of the students weren't going to let that pass as an excuse. Eventually the girl was forced to simply walk away, leaving the remaining students muttering amongst themselves.

"What do you think she was asked?" Hermione wondered quietly, glancing up at the door worriedly.

Ron shrugged. "Dunno," he said. "But whatever it is didn't sound like a written test." He seemed quite encouraged by the thought.

One by one the rest of the students were called forwards, and one by one they left the room after about ten to fifteen minutes, unwilling to say what exactly had happened inside. For Ron and Hermione this was nerve-wracking but for Harry it was much less significant, though his interest had been caught.

Eventually the students had been whittled down to a nominal amount and soon enough there was only Harry, Ron and Hermione left standing.

"Granger, Hermione," Moody called as his previous examinee, Pansy Parkinson, sneered as she left the classroom. Hermione didn't even notice, so nervous was she for the exam, and she jumped up when Moody called her. Soon enough she had disappeared from sight and only Harry and Ron were left in the corridor.

Ron's stomach rumbled.

"Hungry?" Harry asked. Lunch had already started, Moody's exam running slightly long. But there was still plenty of time left to eat before the afternoon's exams, provided something unusual didn't happen.

"Starving," Ron replied.

It wasn't long before he wasn't thinking about food anymore as ten minutes later Hermione exited the classroom and Moody called his name.

"Wish me luck," he muttered as he crossed the corridor to Moody, passing Hermione going the other way, and disappeared into Moody's classroom.

"So?" Harry asked. "How did it go?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Okay," she said uncertainly. Harry knew not to put too much stock in that answer. Hermione consistently underestimated how well she did in her exams. Instead Harry was much more interested in what the exam was.

"Oh I can't tell you that," Hermione said fretfully.

"Why?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"You heard what the others said, Moody will fail me if I tell anyone what the test is."

Harry laughed. "I don't count, Hermione," he pointed out, stilling chuckling. "I'm not really doing this, remember."

"Right," Hermione agreed but she still looked unsure. Harry just watched her, aware that she still hadn't told him what had happened.

"Well?" he said eventually as Hermione continued to ignore him. Hermione gave him a stern look before she gave up.

"Fine," she said. "But if Moody asks it was Pansy Parkinson who told you, got it?" Harry grinned.

"So what did you do?" Harry asked for the third time.

"It was a battle simulation," Hermione told him, causing Harry's eyebrows to rise. "When I got in he sat me down at the computer and told me that we were to have a battle with the Pokémon he'd picked out for me. Full six on six and everything."

"And how did you do?" Harry asked.

"I lost." While not too surprising, given Moody's experience with this type of battle, it was unusual to ever hear of Hermione not being successful on a test.

"It was so hard to concentrate," Hermione complained, Harry getting the impression that she felt the need to explain herself. "I mean, Moody would just sit there silently the whole time, and his Murkrow was standing on top of the computer staring at me. It was really distracting."

"Don't worry about it," Harry told her consolingly. "I doubt anyone has beaten Moody. I think only Ron has a shot."

If length of time spent in the classroom was a good indication of success or failure in the exam then Harry's assertion was more than justified. Ron reemerged from Moody's classroom nearly twenty-five minutes after he had entered, looking drained. Moody followed behind him.

"Alright Potter, get in here," Moody said, gesticulating for him to enter. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione.

"See you later," he told them.

"We'll be here when you get out," Hermione promised him. "We're just going to grab something to eat and then we'll be straight back." Harry nodded, accepting her plan. She and Ron had done so much to try and be with him at all times, it was really quite incredible. So as Hermione and Ron headed down the corridor towards the Great Hall Harry followed Moody into his classroom.

As he'd been warned the first thing Harry noticed was that there were only two desks set up in the room. They were right in the centre, facing each other, and upon each was a computer, already switched on, and on the top of one perched Murk the Murkrow. Harry moved to take a seat.

"Not that, Potter," Moody growled, bypassing his own seat and walking towards another door, one Harry knew led into the Battle Hall. "Follow me." Rising from his chair Harry did so, following Moody out of the classroom and into the much better lit hall. Murkrow watched him go with a steady gaze.

"Professor, what am I doing here?" he asked, looking around the room. It was completely empty, as it usually was, but Harry was expecting something else for Moody to have dragged him in here.

Moody snorted. "Don't be thick, Potter, it's quite obvious when you think about it." And then it clicked.

"You want to battle me?" Harry gasped, scarcely believing it. Moody grunted.

"Rules state that Tri-Pokémon champions cannot get assistance from staff members," Moody told him. "But, seeing as you could use a bit of a leg up, I've decided to help you." His sharp eye focused on Harry.

"The Pokémon you'll be facing on that Quidditch pitch won't be like the ones your classmates battle with," Moody told him. "They'll be strong, and tough. It's a challenge to complete a task. You have to earn it. There will be no freebies once you step onto that field."

Harry said nothing. Moody was talking sense, though Harry wished he wasn't. He'd always known that the Pokémon he'd face would inevitably be more difficult to beat than his classmates' Pokémon but he'd known no other way to ready himself for the task. Despite all his work he knew he was still very unprepared.

"Fortunately," Moody continued, cutting through Harry's thoughts. "As your professor it's my right to examine you in whichever way I please. And I want to see you battle." He reached out a hand to his belt and tossed forth a Pokéball. "Go, Conkeldurr."

The enormous fighting type Pokémon appeared before Moody, holding a pair of what looked like concrete columns. It was the first time Harry had seen the Pokémon since the Tri-Pokémon Tournament began and this was certainly the closest he'd ever been to him.

He reached to his own belt.

"Charmeleon, lets go!"

Charmeleon appeared before him, ready and waiting to battle as he had been all month. Despite the fact that he was dwarfed by the hulking Conkeldurr he did not back down an inch, holding his clawed fists at the ready, his flame burning fiercely.

"You take the first move, Potter," Moody told him. "And make it good. I'm not going to hold back." Harry knew he wasn't kidding.

"Charmeleon, Flamethrower!" Harry shouted and Charmeleon let loose a belch of flames. They were huge, and fiercely hot, causing a heatwave over Harry even from where he was standing as they blasted across the room towards Conkeldurr.

"Conkeldurr, block it," Conkeldurr did not dodge or look even remotely alarmed by the flames. Instead he lifted the two concrete pillars in his hands and placed them side by side before him. The fire burned its way into the barricade, licking hungrily at the stone, but none of the fire broke through and as the flames vanished Conkeldurr looked out from behind his shield.

"It's not that easy, Potter," Moody called. "I'll show you a real attack. Conkeldurr, use Low Sweep!"

Conkeldurr lurched forward, taking hold of the end of one of his massive concrete pillars in one hand and swinging it out towards Charmeleon, catching the surprised fire type by the very end and sending him crashing into the wall.

"Charmeleon!" Harry cried, shocked that Conkeldurr could have reached him from so far away.

"Char!" Charmeleon responded, pulling himself up from the floor and glaring back at his opponent. One hit wasn't going to be enough to keep him down.

"Alright, Charmeleon, use Flamethrower!" Charmeleon blasted out a long stream of fire and again Conkeldurr arranged his pillars to take the blow. But Harry had other ideas. "Now switch into Fire Spin!"

The flames that had been licking away at the concrete slabs took on a life of their own, swirling around the barrier and encircling the bulky fighting type until eventually there was no opening in the wall of fire that surrounded him.

Harry grinned, triumphant. Now Conkeldurr was trapped. He had nowhere to run.

Across the room Moody had not given any commands. He watched the fire with an experienced eye, almost seeming to see through it to the Pokémon within.

"Conkeldurr, clear it!"

A thunderous clap echoed throughout the room, sending a huge shockwave in every direction, rattling the doors and windows as the fire around Conkeldurr was blown away, falling in embers to the ground as Conkeldurr stood, massive hands pressed together. He stared at Harry with an unblinking gaze. Harry swallowed.

"Harry!" Harry turned, surprised, to find Ron and Hermione standing by the door, having burst through in response to the attack that had rattled the room. But he couldn't drop his guard.

"Conkeldurr, Low Sweep!" Moody commanded again and this time Harry was prepared.

"Jump, Charmeleon!" he shouted, directing his Pokémon into the air and over the attack of his foe's weapon. "Now Earthquake!"

Charmeleon hit to ground hard and smashed his fists into the solid stone floor. Ripples spread out around the room, throwing everyone off balance as the stone rumbled and shifted ominously.

"Stone Edge, Conkeldurr!" Moody ordered and Conkeldurr, balanced on only one foot from Charmeleon's attack, became surrounded by sharp stones which flew across the room at high speeds.

"Smokescreen!" Harry cried, watching Charmeleon lurch out of the way of the dangerous rock type attack and land on all fours. A billow of smoke was released from his mouth, spreading across the battlefield and leaving both Charmeleon and Conkeldurr hidden from sight.

There was a moment of silence as everyone settled, Moody unable to see where Charmeleon was and Harry more than willing to give his Pokémon a breather. But with the smoke starting to clear he would need to make a move.

"Metal Claw!" He shouted and in the thinning smoke he could make out the figure of Charmeleon launching himself through the air, attacking Conkeldurr from above where his concrete pillars would do him no good.

"Detect!"

Charmeleon missed. He sailed by the seemingly unmissable target in complete shock, landing mere feet away, completely exposed. "Low Sweep!"

Conkeldurr took a firm hold of his pillar, pulling it back behind his head, and then smashed it into Charmeleon's much smaller body, sending the fire Pokémon flying across the hall to land at the feet of his trainer.

"Charmeleon!" Harry gasped, shocked by the hit he had taken. Despite his obvious pain Charmeleon was still ready to go on. He was pulling himself up to his feet, determination in his eyes as he just refused to back down. But he was clearly banged up.

And then he started to glow red. His Blaze ability was kicking in, proving just what dire straights he was already in, yet giving him the power to, potentially, fight back against his opponent.

Moody was waiting calmly, not making any move to try and press home his advantage. He looked completely confident, no doubt in his mind that he was going to win. And he was right to, but Harry wasn't going to give up and, more importantly, neither was Charmeleon.

Charmeleon had one attack in him, Harry knew, anything more would be too taxing. Harry had just one chance, and just one choice.

"Flamethrower!" he shouted, trying to convey in his voice that he still believed they could win. The flame on Charmeleon's tail grew, higher than it ever had before, and Charmeleon opened his mouth wide to put his all into one last attack.

"Mach Punch!" Conkeldurr crossed the distant between them in nary a moment. Before Charmeleon could unleash his attack one of Conkeldurr's devastatingly powerful fists had buried itself in his chest, cutting off his air supply. Charmeleon choked, eyes widening in shock, before he was thrown back.

He hit the wall hard and did not move.

"Charmeleon!" Harry shouted, running over to his Pokémon in a state of shock. He could not believe what he had just seen. Conkeldurr had left behind his concrete pillars and had positively flown over the distance of the battlefield. There had been no chance to shout a warning or for Charmeleon to try and counter. He'd just been beaten.

A loud clunking noise signalled the approach of Moody. He stopped next to Harry, leaning over awkwardly to see Charmeleon as he remained slumped against the wall.

"He'll be alright, sonny," Moody told him in what, for him, passed as a soft voice. "A good look from Madam Pomfrey will put him right." Harry just nodded. He couldn't do anything else.

"I don't like picking on people weaker than myself," Moody told him gruffly. "But you needed to see that there's more at stake than just a stupid cup. The creatures you'll be facing will be strong, varied, and unpredictable. Do not attack blindly. Do not underestimate. Be on the lookout for anything that looks out of place. You are your Pokémon's eyes and its brain. Your Pokémon is going to need you to be on top of your game, just as much as you need it. Fail to heed these words and you'll never make it to the cup."


	24. The Calm Before The Storm

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Moody's words were a wakeup call Harry hadn't realised he needed. He had been so convinced that Charmeleon was the one who needed training so that he could be strong enough to face the Pokémon in the third task that he had forgotten the one advantage he had over them. Harry was there to help Charmeleon, the other Pokémon were alone.

Harry spent that afternoon in the Hospital Wing, as Ron and Hermione went off to sit their Pokémon Statistics exam, sitting by Charmeleon's bed as he sifted through his Pokédex for any information he could find about any Pokémon he might come up against. There were a lot of Pokémon in the world and this was definitely a case of too little too late but if Harry could just retain some information in the time between now and the task tomorrow it could make all the difference.

The next morning dawned bright and early, giving no indication of the tension and the action that would take place later in the evening. The whole castle was on tenterhooks, eagerly anticipating the final task, the moment all year had been building up for, even as they negotiated the last of their exams which, for Ron and Hermione, was History.

"I say we skip it," Ron said as they sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. "You know I'm gonna fail anyway. We'd be much better off helping Harry with some last minute training." Harry appreciated the gesture but that was a stupid idea.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron, you won't fail," Hermione told him, though she looked very nervous. "I do hope they don't focus too much on the sixteenth century though. I know Professor Binns said it wasn't strictly part of the course but they could slip it in." Ron just rolled his eyes and went back to his morning porridge.

The minutes before the exam was due to start passed slowly and Harry kept checking his watch every couple of minutes. It was just nerves, of course, the plan was for Hermione and Ron to escort him up to the dormitory where he would just do more reading whilst the two were doing the exam. Still Harry couldn't help but feel the anxiety build. It was less than twelve hours until the first task was due to start.

"Lets go," Ron said, clearly noticing just how fidgety Harry was. Hermione didn't complain, often an advocate for getting to an exam early just in case, and she quickly gathered up her notes and shoved them into her bag. As she did so Professor McGonagall approached.

"Mr Potter," she said briskly, staring down at him. "If you would be so kind your presence is required." Harry blinked. But they still had hours before the task. He still had time.

"But Professor," Hermione said anxiously. "We've got to go to our history exam and we can't leave Harry on his own. Not with all the attacks." Professor McGonagall's expression seemed to soften at her words.

"I assure you Mr Potter will not be alone," McGonagall told them. "There are people present who are more than willing and capable of accompanying Mr Potter while you're sitting your exams." Ron and Hermione looked relieved.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Ms Granger," McGonagall said, surprising them. "Both you and Mr Weasley have shown great loyalty to your friend. It has not been easy but the mark of a true friend is sticking with them in the good times and the bad."

Ron and Hermione both blushed at the praise, averting their eyes into their food, but Harry smiled. Yes, they had been great friends. From the very first year at Hogwarts, when they had travelled down in search for the Sacred Ash, Ron and Hermione had been behind him every step of the way. There was no way Harry hadn't noticed their loyalty.

Ron and Hermione left soon after, still looking quite embarrassed by McGonagall's praise, and Harry, too, stood up, following the Physiology Professor down to the end of the hall and towards one of the many adjoining doors where food usually entered through.

"I'm afraid I must be leaving you here," McGonagall told him as they reached the door. "I have an exam to oversee."

"Eh, Professor," Harry called as McGonagall made to walk off. "What am I doing here?" He didn't really want to enter without knowing. He was quite on edge.

"Families of the champions have been invited to meet with them before the task begins," McGonagall told him briskly. "They are waiting beyond this door." Harry spluttered.

"Family?" He asked incredulously. "You mean the Dursleys?" McGonagall gave him a look which made him feel very stupid and walked off without another word, striding through the now very empty Great Hall towards the front doors. Harry, with nothing better to do, walked inside.

The first people he noticed upon entering the room were the Delacour family. The father, Mr Delacour, was surprisingly short and plump, while Mrs Delacour looked exactly as her daughter did, except of course much older. It was clear where Fleur had got her good looks from. The group was rounded out by a young girl, maybe eight or nine years old, who shared many of the features of Fleur and her mother, including her fluency in French. This was obviously Fleur's sister, as she was speaking non-stop to the older girl who was putting on a very considerate show of patience.

Like the Delacour family Krum's parents held very similar physical features to their child. They huddled near the back of the room, speaking in low voices as though worried about others overhearing. If Harry had not known it was Krum's nature he might have found it highly suspicious. As it was he barely batted an eyelash.

"Oh, sorry Harry." Cedric had just walked through the door behind him, knocking Harry forward a few steps before he could catch himself.

"Cedric!" The cry was unmistakably coming from Amos Diggory, who walked towards his son with arms outstretched. "My boy! Come here." Cedric grinned, walking forward and hugging his father before planting a kiss on his mother's cheek.

"Ah, and Harry," Amos Diggory continued, spotting the younger boy. "Such an excellent showing from you too. But I shouldn't keep you. Wouldn't want to keep you from greeting your guests."

"My guests?" Harry questioned, blinking stupidly.

"Why of course," Amos told him. "Just over there. Take a look." And Harry did.

Standing by the fire, blending in somewhat with their surroundings, stood Mrs Weasley and Bill. Mrs Weasley was facing away, talking animatedly to her eldest son, and so hadn't noticed Harry's entrance. Bill, on the other hand, glanced up, caught his eye, and grinned. He nudged his mother, cutting her off in full flow, and nodded his head in Harry's direction.

"Harry!" Mrs Weasley descended upon him and before Harry knew it he was swept up in a bone-crushing hug. "Harry, you're here."

"Mrs Weasley," Harry gasped, partly from the surprise but also because it felt as though all the breath had been squeezed out of him. "Mrs Weasley, what are you doing here?"

"Well, we're here to watch you in the last task," she told him as if it was obvious. "What a silly question."

"But," Harry said but he couldn't form any more words. The fact that the Weasleys had taken the time to come all the way up here to support him, not just in the stands but here now, blew him away.

"It's just Bill and I at the moment, I'm afraid," Mrs Weasley admitted guiltily. "Charlie should be arriving not long now, he's flying all the way from Romania. Unfortunately Arthur had to work but he's taking a half day and he'll be here too before the task begins, don't worry about that. And he'll be bringing Percy too."

"Is Percy not judging again?" Harry asked. Percy had judged the second task and had stood in in place of Mr Crouch on several other occasions too.

"I don't think so," said Mrs Weasley hesitantly. "I had thought he'd be joining us in the stands."

"Word has it that Mr Crouch is well enough to judge again," Bill explained to Harry. "Who knows if that's true, hardly anyone sees him anymore, but I'm sure the Ministry can find a stand in if he bails. Most senior level Ministry employees are going to be watching anyway."

"They are?" Harry gulped. The idea of competing in front of the whole school was bad enough.

"It's a big event," Mrs Weasley told him. "The Tri-Pokémon tournament hasn't been held for many many years. And with four champions and so little between them there is just so much excitement. I think the crowds might even beat those for the Quidditch World Cup." Harry swallowed. That was a lot of people.

"Eh," he hesitated. "So, what do you want to do?" He'd been preparing to spend the next couple of hours reading from his Pokédex, he wasn't really in any sort of frame of mind to be entertaining.

"Why don't you give us a tour," Mrs Weasley suggested. "It's been many years since I was last in Hogwarts you know."

"Apart from Dumbledore's office," Bill corrected with a grin. "Fred and George have made sure you're a regular visitor." Harry grinned. Fred and George's penchant for trouble was legendary. Harry wasn't surprised the Weasley parents had had to make trips up for disciplinary reasons.

"It's been a while for me, too," Bill acknowledged as Mrs Weasley led the pair of them towards the door. The Diggorys were just leaving and the Krums had disappeared without anyone noticing. The Delacours, on the other hand, were still hanging around by the door and as they passed Fleur turned her eyes on the group. She let out a secret sort of smile, twisting a loose strand of hair in her fingers as Bill passed. She blushed as she caught Harry watching with a raised eyebrow but didn't seem too embarrassed at being caught. She simply winked at him, glancing back one last time as Bill disappeared from sight.

Showing Bill and Mrs Weasley around the castle and grounds was a surprisingly pleasant way of killing off a couple of hours and Harry quickly came to realise that this was exactly what he needed before the task that evening.

Mrs Weasley, in particular, was an enthusiastic observer, often commenting on the differences compared to what Hogwarts had been like back in her day. For one thing most of the teachers had been different, though Argus Filch had still been caretaker even back then. Mrs Weasley even told a story of how she had nearly been caught out of bed by Filch at nearly one in the morning before the groundskeeper, a man called Og who had held the post before Hagrid, saved her from his wrath.

Hearing that his mother had been wandering around Hogwarts at all hours of the night was an eye opener for Bill who continued to press Mrs Weasley for more details, which Mrs Weasley firmly refused to give. Bill quickly realised that it was likely that he did not want to know.

They made it back to the Great Hall in time for lunch, and just in time to greet the remaining Weasleys at Hogwarts, including Fred, George and Ginny, and, of course, Ron.

"Mum! Bill! What are you doing here?!" Was Ron's greeting but Ginny had bypassed any questions and had run over to them, giving Bill a huge hug to rival any her mother could give.

"Hey there, Bonnie," Bill said with a chuckle as he pulled the much smaller girl easily into the air, twirling her around before setting her back on her feet. Harry raised an eyebrow. He'd heard Ginny's brothers refer to her by many nicknames in the past but 'Bonnie' was a new one.

"It's Bill's nickname for me," Ginny told him.

"It's short for my Bonnie Wee Lass," Bill explained with a grin. Ginny blushed.

"It's Scottish for my pretty little girl," Ginny said, her cheeks reddening. "Bill picked it up from a dorm mate back when he was at Hogwarts. I used to think it was cute until I realised I probably wasn't the first girl he'd used it on." She gave her older brother a challenging look which Bill met with ease.

"Don't you worry, sis, you'll always be my bonnie wee lass," he assured her, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "No one could replace you." Despite herself Ginny couldn't help but smile.

"Hello," Ron said, looking incredulous. "I think we're forgetting something important."

"He's right," Fred said at once, almost immediately annoying Ron as he realised he'd become a prop for yet another one of his brothers' jokes.

"Yeah," George chimed in with an expression of mock outrage. "I thought I was your bonnie wee lass."

"I replaced you," Bill said smoothly, playing along with the ease of a guy who'd had a lot of experience with Fred and George in the past.

"How could you?" Fred gasped, holding a hand dramatically to his heart. "What about all you said under the bridge?" Bill smiled.

"We'll always have Paris."

That, it seemed, was a step too far and, after a second's pause, both Fred and George burst out laughing.

"Good to see you haven't changed," Bill told them with a grin, still holding Ginny to his side.

"Us?" Fred and George said together. "Never."

"Can someone answer my question now?" Ron grouched, looking by far the least pleased out of the Weasleys.

"Well they're here to support Harry, aren't they," Hermione pointed out, hiding a smile at Fred and George's antics. "You lot are the closest thing Harry has to family." Harry blushed.

"Exactly," Mrs Weasley said, causing Harry to feel at once both embarrassed and extremely pleased. "I couldn't put it better myself, Hermione. And how are you all getting on? How were exams?"

If there was one topic of conversation that could have made things worse for Ron it was this one and he let out a loud groan as Hermione immediately launched into an explanation of everything they'd done over the last week, to which Mrs Weasley listened to every word.

The afternoon was spent in just as pleasant a fashion, first out on the castle grounds and then up in the Gryffindor Common Room, as Charlie joined them, delighting the students by arriving on the back of his Charizard. The Weasleys and assorted others, including Harry, Hermione and Lee Jordan, gathered round the largest collection of sofas in the centre of the common room, telling jokes and recounting stories of their collected experience at the great school before eventually they headed down to dinner.

As pudding was served Professor Dumbledore stood up at the head of the staff table.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the final task will begin in just a matter of minutes," he announced, the hall breaking out in excited whispers. "If the students would please make their way down to the Quidditch pitch. The champions, remain here."

Harry felt his stomach lurch as he realised that the time was finally upon him. The Weasleys and Hermione wished him luck as they left, most of Gryffindor house doing the same as they filed past him, still sat at the house table. Soon only the champions remained in the hall with their heads of school.

"If you would follow me," Dumbledore said politely, and he led the champions from the hall.

As they stepped out onto the grounds Harry could see the Quidditch pitch in the distance, the intervening distance swarmed by students. A second, separate trail of people disappeared all the way out the castle gates. These must be spectators from outside the school.

The four champions were led at a casual pace, designed to keep them behind the students as they filtered into the stadium. The champions, however, did not follow them.

"This way, Harry," Dumbledore said as the champions were directed towards the changing rooms, only they weren't going to the same one. Harry soon found himself alone, standing in, to his mild annoyance, the Ravenclaw changing rooms. No one followed him inside.

For a moment Harry wondered what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to leave and walk out onto the pitch? Or was he supposed to wait until he was summoned? Horrible thoughts of embarrassing himself in front of the whole school were wiped away as Professor McGonagall appeared behind him, looking tense.

"Ready Potter?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"The champions will be called one by one," McGonagall explained clearly. "You'll be second after Mr Krum. When your name is called you are to walk onto the pitch and wait by the furthest of the two Hogwarts banners. You know which Pokémon you'll be using?" Harry nodded, clutching Charmeleon's Pokéball. It was the only one still on him at the moment. He'd left the others with Hermione and Ron for safekeeping.

"Let your Pokémon out," McGonagall instructed. "You are to walk on together." She paused, half turned to leave as Harry released Charmeleon. She turned back. "Good luck, Potter."

And then she was gone.


	25. The Last Task

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Harry took a deep breath. Alone again the silence was deafening, yet at the same time he could also hear the sounds of thousands of people up above him. In his mind's eye he pictured the stands full of people, imagined a crowd the like of which he'd seen at the Quidditch World Cup.

For better or worse this was his hardest task.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Bagman's booming voice caused Harry to jump, his heart rate rocketing before he was able to control himself. "Welcome to the third task of the Tri-Pokémon Tournament!"

Huge cheers erupted from the crowd. Harry could hear people banging their feet in the stands above him, trying to make as much noise as physically possible.

"Before we begin let us introduce our champions!" Bagman announced. "In first place, representing Durmstrang and competing with his Mienshao, Viktor Krum!" The crowd went wild and Harry could only imagine Viktor walking out onto the pitch with Mienshao at his side. He must be completely used to occasions like this.

Harry turned to Charmeleon. "It's us next," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Ready?" Charmeleon clenched his fist. He was more than ready.

"In second place," Bagman continued and Harry steeled himself. "Representing Hogwarts with his Charmeleon, Harry Potter!" Harry walked out into the bright lights to tumultuous applause. Nothing Harry had pictured had come anywhere near matching the reality. The stands were beyond packed. In fact, it seemed as though extensions had been added to allow more people to come and watch. Everywhere people were shouting, waving flags and banners of all manner of colours, and most notably of all they were screaming his name.

"Come on Harry!" Harry heard the yell and he turned to spy the Weasleys, now joined by Mr Weasley and Percy, cheering louder than anyone else. It gave him heart and he walked to his mark confidently, Charmeleon by his side.

"Also in second place," Bagman announced as Harry reached his mark. "And representing Hogwarts, challenging with his Feraligatr, Cedric Diggory!"

So it seemed Feraligatr had recovered, Harry noted as Cedric walked from the Hufflepuff changing room, smiling up and waving to the crowd. Somewhere in amongst the voices Harry could hear Amos Diggory shouting louder than the rest and Cedric pumped his fist to the stands, presumably in his direction.

"And lastly, representing Beauxbatons with her Gardevoir, Fleur Delacour!" Bagman finished, introducing Fleur who received her fair share of support too. Even after her disastrous second task she was still very much in contention. Anything could happen in this final task.

"And now!" Bagman shouted over the cheers of the crowd. "These four champions, having completed two of the tasks already, will be faced with one final obstacle. The third and final task will test them like no other. No flaw will go unnoticed, no weakness unpunished, in the Tri-Pokémon maze!"

Lights flared to life, illuminating the rest of the pitch which had been mostly hidden in shadow, and the crowd cheered even more wildly than before.

The maze in front of them looked like a very regularly designed jigsaw. The maze seemed to be separated into blocks, each the same size and very square, the walls of which rising high above their heads and giving no indication of what was beyond.

"The third task will be a test against not only the maze but against their fellow challengers!" Bagman announced. "Each champion will face a series of eighteen Pokémon, one representative of each of the eighteen Pokémon types, and only the first to defeat them all and reach the centre of the maze will be crowned Tri-Pokémon Champion!"

"Now I turn your attention to the screens!" Bagman called, gesturing up to the gigantic displays that had been erected on either side of the pitch. "These screens will allow you as spectators to monitor the progress of each of the champions. However, the champions themselves will not be able to see them and will have no ability to tell how well their competitors are doing. They only have their own progress to worry about."

Harry looked at the board. His name was up in the top right quadrant, complete with a profile picture, above Fleur and to the right of Krum. Next to his image was an array of symbols, three lines of six, which Harry supposed represented the eighteen Pokémon types.

"The third task is due to take place any moment now, so before we begin lets give our champions one last piece of instruction," Bagman told them. "Because Mr Krum is in the lead with 85 points he will be given a head start over his competitors and will begin on the first whistle. On the second whistle joint second place, Mr Potter and Mr Diggory with 81 points apiece, will proceed. Finally on the third and final whistle Ms Delacour with 77 points will start. From that point forward it will be up to the champions and the champions alone who will win."

Bagman fell silent for a moment, looking at his watch.

"Ten seconds until the start of the first task!" Bagman announced. "Five, four, three, two, one!" He blew the whistle.

The front wall of the square facing Krum started to rumble, and it quickly became clear it functioned as some kind of door. Not wasting time Krum charged forwards as soon as he could squeeze through, Mienshao by his side.

Losing sight of Krum, Harry turned to the big screen. One of the symbols, the one Harry guessed represented rock type Pokémon, had lit up.

"Drain Punch!" Harry heard Krum's command, although he guessed only the other champions could hear him over the cheers from the crowd. Looking up Harry noticed another screen directly behind him, showing a live feed of the action below, just in time to see Mienshao's attack crash into the face of the unfortunate Nosepass.

Up on the screen the rock symbol went black.

The whistle went a second time, almost catching Harry off guard, and he hurried forward with Charmeleon by his side as the door ground open.

There was nothing there. Harry pulled up short, looking around in confusion. Had there been some sort of mistake? Yet as he stood there no one said anything to indicate that something had gone wrong, and Harry couldn't see where he was supposed to go next. Maybe there _was_ a Pokémon here.

"Can you see anything, Charmeleon?" Harry asked. Charmeleon's eyes were a whole lot sharper than Harry's but still Charmeleon shook his head, although he too seemed to think they were not alone. Maybe the Pokémon was camouflaged.

"Use Earthquake," Harry told him and Charmeleon slammed his fists into the ground, causing the earth to undulate in a shock wave around him. "There!"

It had been near impossible to see before, but Harry now knew why. Their opponent was none other than a Kecleon, and now that Harry knew that the red stripe that always marred its belly gave it away.

"Charmeleon, use Metal Claw!" Harry ordered excitedly, knowing that Kecleon was a Pokémon he could beat. Charmeleon charged forwards, claws raised and glinting in the light as he ran towards the now no longer hidden Pokémon.

A tongue shot out, nearly hitting Charmeleon straight in the face but for his timely dodge, the tongue instead wrapping around Charmeleon's claw.

Bagman's whistle blew for a third time and Harry heard the familiar creak of doors opening. Fleur had now entered the maze. The final task had truly begun.

"Hold onto it, Charmeleon," Harry commanded, knowing he needed to move quickly. "Use Flamethrower!" Trapped with his tongue in the grip of the enemy Pokémon, Kecleon could only do so much to dodge Charmeleon's attack, twisting its body in a painful way to avoid the worst of the flames.

"Reel him in!" Charmeleon took a firm hold on Kecleon's tongue with both claws and jerked it towards him. Kecleon was pulled easily off his feet, flying forward helplessly towards Charmeleon. "Fire Fang!"

Charmeleon met Kecleon halfway there, fire cloaked fangs clamping down on the normal type's midriff with ferocious strength. Charmeleon jerked his head back, finally releasing his hold on Kecleon's tongue, and tossed the Pokémon into the ground at his feet.

Kecleon did not get up. Instead he disintegrated into red energy and was sucked away, pulled back into a Pokéball sitting on the wall ahead that Harry had not noticed before. Harry imagined the light on the normal type symbol by his name go dark and felt a feeling of triumph as the wall in front of him started to creak open just like the one behind him had, and he charged onwards.

The Pokémon kept coming thick and fast. First a Machop, who might have been difficult to deal with had Harry not practiced so extensively against Ron's Machop, then a Magneton that could not handle Charmeleon's fire type attacks.

The first real challenge came from a Boldore, the rock type resisting Charmeleon's attacks, but even it was defeated. Charmeleon smashed him with his Metal Claw attack and left him in a heap in the dirt, the Pokémon disappearing and allowing Harry to go on.

The noise was deafening, even after so long in the maze as the packed crowd screamed their support. They could have been screaming anything, perhaps even telling him what Pokémon was coming next, but the sheer volume drowned out any coherence. Every so often Harry would hear the voices of his fellow champions, much clearer, but there was no way to know how far they'd gone. It may be a challenge between them but it was really a race against time.

* * *

"Come on Harry!" Hermione's cheer was echoed by many in the stands, particularly from the section she was standing in. The Weasleys next to her roared equally loudly, almost trying to will Harry forward as he faced Pokémon after Pokémon, and behind her sat what seemed like most of the rest of Gryffindor House, cheering on their champion.

"Yes Charmeleon!" The shout came from Fred and George next to her as Charmeleon set ablaze a Scyther with ruthless efficiency, moving on even before Scyther had been sucked back into its Pokéball.

"He's doing very well, isn't he," Hermione said to Ron, having to turn and talk into his ear for him to hear over the crowd.

"Yeah," Ron replied. "He's over halfway. And Krum seems to have got stuck against that Slowbro." Indeed Krum had been battling against the water and psychic type for several minutes, never looking in danger of losing but unable to strike a finishing blow. He was starting to fall behind.

"If Fleur struggles with that Shiftry at the end and Cedric can't get past Ludicolo Harry's got a real shot," Hermione said, but Ron didn't seem to be paying attention. He was staring out over the pitch, not down at the maze, but up into the stands across from them. "Ron, are you listening?"

Ron raised a shaking hand.

"There," he said, pointing out across the pitch. "It's there. It's back." Hermione turned to look, bewildered, and then her blood ran cold.

Across the pitch, standing as still as a statue at the very back of the stands behind an obliviously cheerful round faced man, was Absol.

"No," Hermione gasped, feeling her blood run cold. It couldn't be. Not now.

Absol was staring at them, and had been staring at them from the moment she'd looked. Its familiar small red eyes were boring into theirs even from a distance and they knew that this appearance, like all the others before, was a warning.

For a moment longer Absol stood there. Then it was gone.

"What do we do?" Ron said shakily, looking incredibly pale. Hermione gnawed on her lip, equally worried, and looked down at the maze. Harry was facing an Aromatisse and was only a few Pokémon away from completing the task. What could happen?

"Should we tell someone?" Ron asked nervously. "McGonagall? Or Dumbledore even?"

"What are you talking about?" Fred and George were looking over at them with identical confused expressions on their face. Hermione and Ron ignored them.

"That's exactly what we should do," Hermione said animatedly, glad she and Ron were on the same wavelength. "I don't know what's going to happen but if it's anything like second year…"

"Lets go," Ron agreed and together, much to Fred and George's disbelief, they pushed their way along their row and down the steps. They needed to get to the judges table immediately.

* * *

Down in the maze Harry was deep in his own battle.

"Flamethrower!" He cried and Charmeleon let loose a burst of fire. The Misdreavus they were up against floated out of the way but in doing so left itself vulnerable. "Fire Fang!"

Charmeleon's fangs clamped down on Misdreavus, fire bursting from his jaw and Misdreavus cried out in pain. It floated weakly to the ground and lay there, completely still.

Misdreavus quickly turned red and was sucked back into its Pokéball.

"You alright, Charmeleon?" Harry asked, giving his Pokémon the once over before they stepped forward to face the next opponent. Charmeleon was quite scratched up at this point, all manner of cuts and bruises littering his skin from the various Pokémon they'd defeated along the way. But Charmeleon looked as ready to battle as ever and Harry, noting that Charmeleon's Blaze ability was yet to kick in, was confident that his Pokémon could still go on.

They were getting close now. Harry had lost count along the way, the many battles splitting his attention, but he knew he couldn't have more than a couple of Pokémon left to face. Worryingly one of those would be a water type, Harry having yet to face one, but the other one, if there was another one, Harry could not quite figure out. In any case he stepped forward into the next zone with the expectation to expect anything.

What he got was nothing.

It wasn't the first time. At first Harry had thought the normal type zone had been empty before realising it was concealing a Kecleon in plain sight. Fighting Misdreavus had also been a challenge in finding it but that too had been dispatched.

The real difference in this zone was the layout. While many of the zones before had featured a different surface or perhaps a tree or two this one was much different. The overall feel reminded Harry of a warehouse. Large crates were sitting around, stacked up on top of each other, blocking his opponent from view.

"Keep an eye out, Charmeleon," Harry warned, but unnecessarily. Charmeleon was more than alert and was eyeing every shadow warily, expecting an attack at any moment.

That didn't stop the attack from coming.

"Scra!" A short cry was all the warning Harry got as a dark shape rushed Charmeleon, smashing into him forcefully before disappearing behind the shelter of the crates. The attack had happened so fast neither Harry nor Charmeleon had the chance to react.

"You alright?" Harry asked, though he knew Charmeleon would be. Instead he focused on the area the dark shape had disappeared to. It was impossible to make out the Pokémon that had attacked, the shadows were far too deep, so Harry silently stepped around to the side to try and get a better angle.

"Char!" Harry whipped around but again he'd been too slow. The figure was already disappearing into the shadows by the time he'd turned to look, having struck Charmeleon from behind in another lightning quick attack.

Harry stepped back, taking a deep breath. This would be difficult.

Calling Charmeleon to his side Harry surveyed the task before him. Clearly the crates, which Harry had assumed were to help the Pokémon hide, actually had the added benefit of allowing the Pokémon to sneak around the entire zone unnoticed. While Harry had been closing in on where he'd thought the Pokémon had been the Pokémon had used the shadows created by the crates to get behind them.

And it would continue to do so again and again, Harry realised, unless he put a stop to it. And he could only see one solution.

"Charmeleon, use Flamethrower!" Fire spread everywhere. Though it may be unwise to push Charmeleon to such an extreme after the many battles he'd already gone through Harry directed him to set alight each and every one of the wooden crates that filled the zone. With the crates on fire the shadows would disappear and his opponent would have nowhere to hide.

"Metal Claw!" Harry shouted quickly, his eyes picking up movement this time as the still unknown Pokémon moved in for an attack. Charmeleon was only just able to deflect with his own attack, the opponent striking with such ferocious speed, but this time there was nowhere for it to retreat to. Harry pulled out his Pokédex and pointed it at the now exposed Pokémon.

"Scrafty, the Hoodlum Pokémon. Groups of them beat up anything that enters their territory. Each can spit acidic liquid from its mouth."

So it was a dark type for this zone then, and this dark type also happened to be a fighting type too. A tough opponent, but one that did not hold any major advantages over Charmeleon. With its cover blown this was now a fair fight.

"Charmeleon, use Earthquake!" Harry called, looking to take advantage of his opponent being ground bound. Charmeleon raised his fists and smashed them to the ground.

In response Scrafty was already in movement. As the shockwave rippled towards him he leapt up and over it, launching himself forward into a flying Hi Jump Kick.

"Flare Blitz, Charmeleon!" Harry called, putting his faith in Charmeleon's strength. Surrounded in fire Charmeleon charged forward to meet the attack, throwing himself recklessly at Scrafty as Scrafty did the same to Charmeleon.

The two Pokémon collided with force in midair, battling for dominance with the power of their attacks overwhelming. It became a battle of wills as they pushed against each other, neither willing to flinch first in the face of their opponent's attack.

But the evening had taken its toll and Charmeleon was the first to blink. The recoil from Flare Blitz kicked in and he was sent crashing to the ground and Scrafty, landing across the clearing from him, sprinted forward to take advantage.

"Charmeleon!" Harry cried as Scrafty threw his full body weight into the recovering Pokémon. Caught full in the chest by Scrafty's Strength attack Charmeleon was knocked through the air, soaring in an arc before colliding painfully with the partition wall. He looked all but defeated.

But it wasn't in Charmeleon's nature to give up. Even as Harry stepped towards him, worry and panic written across his face, Charmeleon pulled himself to his feet. He grasped hold of the wall, willing strength into his limbs as he had none left, and a familiar fiery glow surrounded his body.

Scrafty watched warily as Charmeleon stepped forwards, uncertain of the fire in the Pokémon's eyes as it stepped towards him with purpose and a new, incredible power. And then he stopped, no more than a dozen feet from his opponent, and he was overtaken by a glow of a completely different kind.

Harry watched in awe as his starter Pokémon, his partner in near enough everything he'd done in the past four years, started to grow. He knew what was happening, had seen it happen once already to this very same Pokémon, but still he was left speechless as Charmeleon's form shifted and morphed. Wings protruded from his back, stretching out for several feet in both directions as he continued to grow larger, his body expanding higher than even the tops of the still burning crates.

And then the white light broke and the wings stretched to their fullest extent… and Charizard let out a roar. He looked down upon his opponent, strength coursing through his veins, and bared his teeth.

Scrafty wasn't a brave Pokémon. He was smart, with great speed, strength and cunning, and he knew full well when he was overmatched. He scrambled backwards, struggling with wide eyes to keep the behemoth that had just appeared within sight as he clambered up the side of the partition walls and slapped his hand to the button of the Pokéball resting atop it, sucking him away to safety.

Charizard turned from where his opponent had fled and looked over to Harry instead. He looked intimidating, terrifying with the flames still licking at the wooden crates around him, but his eyes were the same as they had been as a Charmeleon. They told the same thoughts and the same feelings as Charmeleon had always shown and Harry stepped forward without fear.

"Charizard," he whispered, laying his hand gently on the Pokémon's neck. Charizard let out a low rumble, Harry feeling the sound through his throat, and lowered his head to Harry's eye level. They looked at each other for one long moment.

They were interrupted by the creak of the wall opening up and as one they turned towards it. It fell still, inviting them onward. The last challenge.

Harry turned back to his Pokémon. "Ready, Charizard?" he asked, looking his Pokémon in the eye. Charizard nodded. "Then lets go."

The walk felt longer than it must have been, the distance only a matter of a few feet, but Harry supposed it was a mark of the importance of the occasion that had him acutely aware of each passing second. They had one Pokémon to face now. One Pokémon between them and the Tri-Pokémon Cup. And it would be a water type.

And as he stepped through the door and looked upon his final challenge Harry couldn't help but feel it fitting to see a Blastoise standing before him. His final, and hardest, task, and he would take no regrets.

"Charizard. Fly."

* * *

Up in the stands Hermione and Ron were watching with mouths hanging open.

"Woah."

They had made it around to the opposite side of the stands and had climbed up and just reached the top of the stairs in time to see Charmeleon's dramatic evolution. It left them speechless.

"Mr Weasley. Ms Granger. What are you doing here?" Professor McGonagall had spotted them and she looked quite bewildered to see the two Gryffindor fourth years standing there.

That snapped them out of it.

"Professor McGonagall, we've got something to tell you," Hermione said hurriedly, forgetting all about the last task even as Charizard let loose a blast of fire at the Blastoise below.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" she asked, indicating for them to go on.

"What's going on here?" It was Snape's turn to speak up and his sallow face and hooked nose turned to where Ron and Hermione were standing, a sneer on his face. "Unless I was very much mistaken this section of the stands was reserved for faculty," he lectured. "There is no reason for you to be here."

"But Professor, we have some important information," Hermione said imploringly.

"Nothing you have to say can't wait until the task is over," Snape replied smoothly. "Now return to your seats or I'll have to put you in detention."

"Severus," McGonagall scolded sharply, not looking happy with the way Snape was treating her students.

"But Professor, you don't understand…" Hermione tried again.

"We saw Absol," Ron said straight up. McGonagall froze.

"What did you say, Weasley?" she asked sharply.

"We saw Absol," Ron repeated. "He was in the back of the stands."

"How long ago was this?" McGonagall asked, looking very concerned.

"No more than ten minutes ago," Hermione told her quickly. "We came over as soon as we could to warn you. If something happens in the task…" McGonagall stood up.

"Come with me," she said firmly. "We'll need to see Professor Dumbledore about this."

Professor McGonagall led them along the stands, away from a very sour looking Snape, and over towards where the judges were sitting. Dumbledore was one of the closest, sitting just beyond Mr Crouch, and he noticed them arriving.

"Minerva, what is the matter?" he asked, taking in his deputy's expression. His eyes scanned over Hermione and Ron and it was obvious that he was suspecting something big.

"There is reason to believe that a terrible accident is about to befall one of the champions," McGonagall said sharply. At her words the remaining judges looked over, faces betraying varying levels of shock.

"And what are these reasons?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"The appearance of an Absol," McGonagall said, ignoring the incredulous looks she was getting. "I believe I may have mentioned to you the Absol that appeared during the attacks two years ago. It has been spotted again tonight."

Dumbledore did not say anything for a while. He was looking up at McGonagall with a concerned expression, as if wondering just how serious this must be to have worried the austere woman before him, before his eyes swept over the two worried looking fourth years.

"Then we must do what we can to ensure no harm befalls anyone," Dumbledore said simply, standing up. "Professor McGonagall, if you could please gather up the staff to patrol around the Quidditch pitch - both inside and out would be preferable - and keep an eye out for anyone looking suspicious."

"We shall 'elp, too," Maxime said throatily, standing up to her full immense height.

"Ah, yes," Karkaroff agreed after a short cough. "Let me just get Dmitry. He will be very useful, I think." Dumbledore nodded his gratitude to his two fellow heads of school. Then he turned back to Ron and Hermione.

"If you would please rejoin your family and friends," he told them. "While it is entirely possible Absol's warning has to do with the safety of the champions it is also possible that it could affect the safety of yourselves. Strength in numbers is a most ingenious defence in times of uncertainty."

Ron and Hermione nodded and left, hurrying away to keep out of the path of the various professors that passed them. As he passed Karkaroff looked nervous. He clearly was not keen on the idea of putting himself into harms way.

The two made their way back to the steps they'd arrived from and briefly turned to look back over the Quidditch pitch. Charizard still flew high in the sky, firing down attacks on Blastoise whilst dodging jets of water in return. Hermione and Ron could not think how Harry could be in danger, surrounded by such immense security as he was, but it seemed inevitable that whatever warning Absol was giving them it centred around their friend.

* * *

Harry wiped sweat from his brow, taking a quick step back as a slightly wayward Flamethrower warmed the ground at his feet. The battle had been raging for quite some time now and he was making little to no progress. Meanwhile the pressure of the clock had found its way back to him and the longer he watched Charizard twist and turn in the sky the more he became aware that Krum, Fleur and Cedric were still fighting their way to the centre of the maze.

His battle with Blastoise was going nowhere. Resistant to all of Charizard's fire type moves Blastoise was barely tickled by any of Charizard's range attacks. Meanwhile trying to get in close to hit it with a Slash, Metal Claw or Earthquake was similarly impossible as that brought Charizard within range of Blastoise's high pressured water cannons. Harry had to think of something, something incredible.

His Pokédex gave him the help he needed, updating him on Charizard's new form. He'd learned two new moves upon evolving, to Harry's delight, but each of them had their downfalls. The more powerful of the two, which in other circumstances Harry would be jumping with joy to have, was another fire type move, something that would do next to nothing against Blastoise. The second wasn't, but it required Charizard to get close. And that was risky.

"Charizard, use Fire Spin!" Harry called, looking for some momentum and to inconvenience his battle opponent. As the flames surrounded Blastoise they did nothing to harm it, but it was a distraction and as Blastoise did its best to douse the flames it couldn't keep an eye out for Charizard.

"Slash!" Charizard raked his claws across Blastoise's shell, predictably doing little but throwing the Pokémon off balance. The strength of a Blastoise shell was legendary. Yet Harry would take any damage he could get on this thing.

Blastoise was quick to recover though and quickly Charizard found himself hovering dangerously in front of one of Blastoise's cannons, locked and loaded.

"Get behind it!" Harry called, hoping that his plan would work. The first step went alright, Charizard adeptly avoiding the blast and circling behind the water type before it could turn itself around. "Now grab on!"

Charizard dug his claws in tight and Blastoise staggered, the new weight throwing it off balance. It tried to shake its opponent off, shaking its shell and hopping from one foot to the other in the hopes of unseating him, but Charizard clung on.

"Blastoise!" Blastoise cried and his cannons repositioned. One of them blasted a jet of water well off the mark, flying off aimlessly into the night air, but the other collided slap bang with Charizard's face.

Charizard roared in pain, his head showered with the high pressure blast from close range with his current position giving him no opportunity to protect himself. Yet he clung on and Harry put the next stage of his plan into action.

"Charizard, lift Blastoise!" He shouted as loud as he could, hoping his Pokémon could hear over the blast of the water pummelling his face. For a moment Harry looked to be out of luck, Charizard continuing to take the attack as Blastoise grew more and more comfortable, before Blastoise's expression suddenly changed to shock as its feet were lifted off the ground.

"That's it, Charizard!" Harry encouraged, watching as his Pokémon lifted the enormous might of Blastoise into the air. So nervous was the water type that it'd cut its attack short and now, head free from the endless blast of water, Charizard let out a roar and pushed on with renewed energy. Higher and higher they rose, above the partition walls and even further as the whole crowd gasped and pointed.

"Sky Drop!" Charizard dropped like a dead weight, Blastoise falling with him with no power over itself any longer. In just a second they had returned to ground level and Charizard heaved Blastoise ahead of him, slamming the water type with tremendous force into the ground, sending out a shockwave that nearly knocked Harry off his feet.

As the dust settled and the crowd waited with bated breath Charizard took a step away from his opponent who did not move a muscle. A second later Blastoise was surrounded by red energy and returned to its Pokéball. Then the wall opened up.

Harry ran through, Charizard at his side, and charged out into the very centre of the maze. To his left he saw Cedric appear too, Feraligatr by his side, but the walls blocking Fleur and Krum remained closed.

"That's it!" Bagman shouted, his voice nearly drowned out as cheers erupted from all sections of the stands. "The final task is over! And we have two winners! Let's all give a loud hand for our new Tri-Pokémon Champions, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory!"

The crowd erupted into even more noise. Everywhere Harry looked he could see the spectators rise to their feet and applaud, the noise so loud that Harry wondered if it would even drown out Bagman and his megaphone.

Looking across, nearly straight ahead, Harry found one of the monitors displaying the champions' progress. Beside his name in the top right each of the eighteen symbols had gone dark, as too had the symbols beside Cedric's name. Next to Fleur's name two symbols still remained lit and beside Krum's just the one.

Harry turned to the screen behind him, the one that had followed the action live from start to finish. Krum was clearly distraught, leaning with his head pressed in anguish against the partition wall mere feet from Harry as a Palpitoad disappeared in a flash of red light. Fleur looked just as drained, standing with her Gardevoir as the Shiftry that had stopped them disappeared also.

Beside Harry Cedric had embraced his Feraligatr, muttering endlessly to his water type Pokémon. It looked like he couldn't believe he had won and Harry was feeling the same. It hadn't sunk in yet, he didn't feel as though he truly grasped that it was over, that he was now the Tri-Pokémon Champion. He looked up at Charizard.

"We did it," he told him, his voice slightly in awe. Charizard nodded before he lifted his head and let out a triumphant roar. Harry grinned. He'd won in more ways than one.

"Congratulations! Congratulations!" Bagman was yelling over the cheering supporters. "Unbelievable! I'm being reliably informed this is the first time we've had a tie in all of Tri-Pokémon history, and two from the same school! Congratulations Harry! Congratulations Cedric! Congratulations Hogwarts!"

The cheers, if possible, grew even louder and Harry and Cedric exchanged a grin. Hogwarts would always be the best Pokémon training school in their eyes and it was with great pride that they would lead that reputation forward until the next time the three schools competed.

"Now if we can have all the champions back for the presentation ceremony!" Boomed Bagman. An Abra appeared before them in the very middle of the pitch. "Abra, if you could kindly bring our champions to the podium for the awarding of the Tri-Pokémon Cup!"

The crowd cheered. Harry and Cedric grinned. Abra nodded. And they disappeared.


	26. Friend And Foe Alike

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

Upon landing Harry nearly fell over, the ground uneven beneath his feet, but a firm hand caught and steadied him. He looked up at his saviour.

"Thanks Charizard," he said, grateful to the enormous fire type. It would take some getting used to to see his beloved starter Pokémon in his new form.

"Where are we?"

It was Cedric's voice that asked the question but it was one that Harry was already thinking as he turned his attention away from Charizard and noticed the sudden stillness in the air. There was no noise, no fans cheering, not even the sound of Bagman over the megaphone. It was completely silent.

They were standing in a small copse of trees, as far as Harry could tell, though it was very late and the trees blocked out what little light remained.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. A chill crept up his spine. This wasn't right.

"Do you think this is a part of the task?" Cedric asked, turning to look around much the same way as Harry had. "I mean, something to decide which one of us wins." Harry shook his head.

"Bagman said we'd both won," he said simply. "He was taking us to get the cup, remember. I don't think we're supposed to be here."

A snapping sound caught their attention and they both jumped, turning towards the noise. At first the shape wasn't clear, blocked out by the shadows of the trees, but as it stepped forward it revealed itself to be nothing but a Houndour. Both Harry and Cedric relaxed slightly.

The Houndour didn't look like it was going to attack them but it didn't look particularly friendly either. It gave out a low rumbling growl as it crouched before them.

"What the…?" Cedric said in surprise. Harry, too, was caught off guard as both Charizard and Cedric's Feraligatr suddenly disappeared back into their Pokéballs.

"That's Roar," Harry said, remembering it from when Sirius's Mightyena had used the same move on Malfoy's Servine. It made him feel very uncomfortable to suddenly be without Charizard by his side.

"Very clever." Harry and Cedric whirled around as a new voice spoke up and Harry's blood ran cold.

"Who are you?" Cedric asked, grabbing hold of Feraligatr's Pokéball and holding it out in front of him. "Answer me."

But Harry knew who he was. He was young and handsome, just like last time Harry had seen him, and his red eyes burned with the same ferocity Harry remembered only too well.

"Kill the spare." A rustle sounded at their feet and in an instant something launched itself towards them from only a few feet away, giving them no time to react. Cedric reached out to push Harry away but whatever was attacking them caught him first. An awful crack sounded through the clearing. Feraligatr's Pokéball fell to the ground from Cedric's limp fingers.

Harry was in shock. He could not move. He could not think or breath, all he could do was look down at Cedric, his body left uncovered where it had fallen, his neck twisted at a horrifying angle. His eyes stared up into the night sky blankly. Unseeing and unmoving there was no denying. Cedric Diggory was dead.

Someone grabbed at Harry. He tried to throw them off, a token effort really, and he was hit roughly over the back of his head. Seeing stars Harry could not do anything as he felt whoever that was holding him search his person before finding Charizard's Pokéball.

"No," Harry murmured but he was too weak to try and stop the person from dispossessing him of his Pokémon. His body was numb and this person, whoever they were, was strong and rough.

Harry soon found himself dragged away, his feet tripping over roots and stones in the uneven grass as his captor dragged him along. He briefly became aware of his new surroundings, a graveyard of some sort with huge tomb stones standing out across the hill, before he was slammed into one. Before he could think of running a length of rope was looped around his torso and he was tied down tight, unable to move.

That's when he saw him again.

Lord Voldemort was watching Harry's plight with interest as whoever it was that was tying him up fiddled with the rope from behind the tombstone. He looked older than Harry remembered, not a boy any longer but a man, perhaps thirty years old. Of course it was all pointless, Voldemort's appearance was entirely his choice.

A sharp tightening of the ropes caught Harry's attention and the person responsible for tying him up reappeared, his head covered in a dark hood.

"He is ready, master," the man murmured. His voice was harsh but he spoke with reverence as he bowed his head towards Lord Voldemort.

"Good. Then ready the cauldron," Voldemort commanded and the man hurried off. Voldemort turned his attention to Harry.

"I'm sure you're wondering what you are doing here, Harry Potter," Voldemort said, his lips curved at the edges. The man, surely one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, had by this time dragged a cauldron just in front of where his master stood.

"The blood now," Voldemort instructed his follower and the man silently approached Harry. A knife was revealed, glinting in the moonlight, and the man roughly slashed at Harry's exposed forearm.

"Ah!" Harry cried in pain, unable to even flinch properly as the knife slit through his skin with ease. The throbbing pain in his arm intensified as the man pressed the flat side of the blade harshly against the wound, holding it there for several seconds, before walking away. He cradled the blade carefully before reaching the cauldron, where he flicked the remnants of blood that had clung to it.

"What you are about to witness, Harry, is history," Voldemort told him, his eyes gleaming as the substance in the cauldron bubbled and hissed. "Never before has anyone dared attempt what I am about to do tonight. Never again will they do so either."

Movement sounded from behind Voldemort and for one wild moment Harry hoped that help had arrived, expecting to see Dumbledore and McGonagall and Moody rush up the hill to save him.

He was desperately disappointed. Instead the sounds came from a sea of dark hooded individuals who walked up in silence to stand behind their master. Identical to a man, their features hidden beneath matching skull like masks, they formed a semi circle around the clearing, behind Voldemort and in full view of Harry.

Voldemort had turned to see them, smiling a horrible smile.

"Welcome Death Eaters," he said softly. "So good to see you again. United under the Dark Mark you have not abandoned your sworn duty, no matter how long you have hidden in wait. But wait no longer. The reign of Lord Voldemort will begin once more."

Voldemort turned back, facing Harry, and with an evil smile he started to lose his shape. His figure went dark, similar to the Gastly form Harry had first seen in him, but before even that form could be full distinguished the dark mass filtered downwards, towards the cauldron.

The liquid inside hissed angrily. There was a lot of sloshing to be heard inside but the cauldron wasn't moving. Vapour started to rise from it and those who were closest took a step back warily. Though nobody ran. Everyone watched with anticipation as the potion within glowed a vivid red, then green, then putrid yellow, then finally turned black. Smoke started to billow from the cauldron and it did not stop. Soon the cauldron itself was obscured, the smoke not seeming to disperse the way it should.

For a long moment everyone was silent. No one moved as everyone in the clearing held their breath.

And then Voldemort stepped out from the smoke.

He looked no different, though Harry could sense that something wasn't quite the same. Voldemort, too, was acting unusual. He stretched out his hands before them, gently caressing his long thin fingers with a look of curious fascination. He bent down and picked up a small rock from the ground, weighing it. Then he crushed it in his fist. He looked up at Harry and smiled.

"So you see me as I truly am," Voldemort said softly and he opened up his fist. The rock spilled from his hand like sand, forming a small mound at his feet. "Finally, after all these years, I am back."

There was silence in the graveyard.

"I know what you must be thinking," Voldemort continued, looking amused. "How is this possible? For me to have a human body once more? When that very gift was stripped away from me by your darling mother? Well, lucky for you, I'm willing to share my secrets."

Voldemort turned back to look where the cauldron had stood. It was gone now, and the smoke too was finally dissipating. All that was left as evidence was a dark mark on the ground where the cauldron had sat. The grass had withered away and died.

"That potion was one of my own invention," Voldemort told him, although he also seemed to be addressing his followers too. "From the moment I was expelled from my body I searched for a way to bring myself back. Time, I had plenty, but resources were harder to come by."

Voldemort paused, looking past Harry to something beyond.

"Nagini," he said, his voice almost a hiss. "Bring forward our friend." The creature that had attacked him before appeared and Harry was finally given a proper look.

It was an Arbok, but unlike any Arbok he'd ever seen. It was much larger than a regular Arbok and it did not share it's same purple colouring. This one looked a rusted gold colour, so dark you could easily mistake it for black.

The Arbok, Nagini, was not alone. It was accompanied by the Houndour from earlier, trotting up calmly alongside the lethal poison type. Nagini slid up next to Voldemort and curled around behind him as Houndour stopped short, waiting patiently.

Voldemort held out a hand, palm up. It took just a few moments before the man who had tied Harry to the headstone hurried forward, placing a Pokéball in Voldemort's hand before scurrying away again. Voldemort surveyed the Houndour critically for a moment before he flicked his wrist. The Pokéball crossed the distance between them and hit the Houndour, sucking it inside. The Pokéball did not shake.

The same man from before hurried forward again, picking the Pokéball up and handing it over to Voldemort, bowing his head reverently before hurrying back to his position in the semi circle. No one spoke as Voldemort surveyed the Pokéball before he once again turned his attention to Harry.

"I had to get my resources from unexpected places," Voldemort told him, as though nothing had happened. "The assistance of a wild Houndour did not seem to be useful but I made sure not to close the door. And then I received assistance in a much more… fascinating form."

Voldemort reached to the pocket of the dark cloak he was wearing and ripped open the stitching. Movement wriggled from inside but Voldemort plunged his hand in without concern and grabbed a tight hold before pulling the object out.

Scabbers the Rattata sat clutched in Voldemort's grip. Upon being pulled free of the fabric he had frozen in fear, no longer trying to scrabble away. Harry didn't blame him. He was in a terrifying position.

"One of my more experimental plans," Voldemort said, smiling down at Pettigrew. "We had not even begun the human testing but it appears it has worked exactly as I planned. Or almost exactly."

"You have served your purpose, Wormtail," he told the Rattata. "And as per our agreement I will hold up my end of the bargain." The death eater from before walked forward, a small cage in his arms.

"You begged for my protection in exchange for your services," Voldemort crooned. "And so you shall be protected." He threw Pettigrew into the cage and the death eater slammed the door shut immediately behind him.

"No one will ever hurt you, Wormtail," Voldemort told him. "No one will even find you." He let out a cruel smirk.

"So you see, Potter," Voldemort said, turning back to Harry as the death eater returned to his comrades, dropping the cage roughly to the ground. Pettigrew squeaked. "I reward those who are faithful to me. Cowardly though Wormtail may be he did help me, even if it were through necessity rather than choice. And so I kept my end of the bargain."

Voldemort's attention turned, yet again, away from Harry and instead down to his left hand. Houndour's Pokéball was still sitting in it and he contemplated it interestedly.

"There is another," Voldemort told him, still looking at the Pokéball. "Another whose loyalty is perhaps greater than any other. He has been locked away for a long time but when he escaped he went searching for me immediately. Step forward, my most loyal of followers."

The man from earlier stepped forward without reservation. None of his colleague dared to stop him. He walked forward to Voldemort's side and kneeled before him, head bowed as he waited for his master to speak.

"For your loyalty," Voldemort said, holding out the Pokéball containing Houndour. "Barty Crouch." As Crouch reached up and accepted the Pokéball Voldemort swept back the man's hood and Harry gasped.

"You no doubt know of that name, Barty Crouch," Voldemort said, addressing Harry. "You may even know that he had a son, to which he gave his name, that ended up being sent to Azkaban for his loyalty."

Harry remembered well. He remembered the blonde haired boy from the courtroom scene in Dumbledore's office. He remembered how Crouch had sentenced his son for a crime so heinous that it didn't even bare thinking about.

"But Barty Crouch was a weak man," Voldemort said, cutting through Harry's memories. "On the instruction of his dying wife he had his son smuggled out of Azkaban to spend her last few days by her side. After her passing young Barty became a prisoner inside his own house, locked away in the basement, but he remained on the lookout. And then one night, no more than a year ago, he saw his chance and escaped in the furore over Sirius Black and set out to join me."

"For his never wavering loyalty he has earned his place in my ranks," Voldemort said, before turning to Crouch. "Now return to your brethren. Hold your head high in the knowledge that you have served the Dark Lord faithfully."

Crouch stood up straight and proud and he did indeed hold his head high as he rejoined the line of Death Eaters. Voldemort turned back to Harry.

"So you see, Potter," he said softly. "See how useless those things Dumbledore preaches truly are. Love. You have faced me twice and have fought against me but still I have returned. And now you are going to die. Love will not stop that."

"It did," Harry spoke up, sounding braver than he felt. "Love destroyed you thirteen years ago." A murmur went around the Death Eaters surrounding them. They seemed shocked that anyone would dare speak out against their master.

"Perhaps," Voldemort admitted softly, though his eyes were slits. "It is true your mother may have sacrificed herself in the name of love. But she's dead. And is it not love that brought me back. Barty Crouch's love for his wife, and her love for her son, have led to this very moment. Your mother was weak. Mr Crouch was weak. His wife was weak."

Barty Crouch Jr shifted in his place in the Death Eaters' ranks and Voldemort paused.

"You disagree?" Voldemort said softly, turning back to his followers. Crouch hesitated. "Come on Barty, feel free to speak up." Barty Crouch took a hesitant step forward.

"Forgive me, my lord, but my mother was not weak," he said roughly, head bowed slightly in reverence. "She allowed my escape from Azkaban and my reuniting with you, my lord. Those aren't the actions of someone who is weak."

"But she died, did she not," Voldemort spoke, his voice cold. "And are we not strong for having survived?" Barty Crouch bowed his head subserviently.

"Indeed but things are not always so simple," he said. "Some things are worth dying for."

There was silence in the graveyard.

"Come here, Barty," Voldemort said softly and dutifully Barty Crouch walked forward. Voldemort surveyed him cooly.

"How long have you felt this way?" Barty Crouch hesitated.

"Always," he answered quietly. Voldemort nodded.

"That Pokéball," he said. "Hand it to me." Barty Crouch looked reluctant but he handed over the Pokéball nonetheless, still kneeling before Voldemort.

"This Pokémon will no longer be yours," Voldemort said shortly. Crouch started.

"But my lord, you gifted it to me," he protested. Voldemort's eyes flashed. His hand reached out and grabbed the man by the throat.

Crouch was pulled from his kneeling position and was lifted by the neck with inhuman strength so that his feet left the ground.

"And I can take it back whenever it so pleases me," Voldemort hissed, his face inches from Crouch.

"You have forgotten yourself, Crouch," Voldemort warned him. "And rewards can be taken." He held up Houndour's Pokéball so that Crouch could see it, then crushed it in his fist.

Crouch's eyes were wide.

"I'm so sorry, my lord," he begged, realising perhaps the dangerous position he was in. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. I am your most loyal. I will always serve."

Voldemort just looked at Crouch with cold, heartless eyes. There was no pity in them, no remorse. He let the fragments of the Pokéball drop to the ground.

"You have been a most loyal Death Eater," Voldemort said softly. "And so I shall give you a chance. Tell me, why should I let you live?" Crouch's face was going blue now, the pressure on his neck severe, and so his response was gasped out.

"I found you," Crouch gasped. "I brought you back. When Wormtail transformed again I completed the potion." Voldemort considered him carefully.

"You did," he conceded. "You were very valuable to me. But you have served your purpose." Crouch's eyes went wide. "Nagini."

"No!" Crouch cried but there was no hope. He fell to the ground in a heap as Voldemort released his hold on his neck and within a moment Voldemort's Arbok was on him, fangs spearing into his neck like razor blades.

Harry tried to turn away as the sounds of a struggle could be heard, tried not to look, but he could still hear the fighting, still hear Crouch's strangling gasps… and could hear when they stopped.

"Nagini," Voldemort said softly as the Arbok continued to writhe over the corpse. "You can feast later. For now, we have some business to attend to." Voldemort turned to Harry.

"Now what are we to do with you," Voldemort said thoughtfully, walking up to where Harry was still bound to the headstone. "In a way I guess I should be quite grateful - your blood has helped me regain my true form - but I can't very well just let you go. There's too much history."

Harry didn't say anything. He didn't think there was anything to say. He'd been trapped against this headstone for god only knew how long and his hopes of being rescued were dying a quick death. This was the reality of his situation.

"Nothing," Voldemort looked disappointed. "No self-righteous words declaring me evil and predicting my downfall." Harry swallowed.

"You already know you're evil," he said thickly. "And if I predicted your downfall you wouldn't believe me." Voldemort laughed.

"How right you are, Harry. What a clever young man," Voldemort mused. "You know, given different situations you'd be exactly what I'd be looking for in a new recruit. Bravery, brains, courage, strength. You made it through the Tri-Pokémon Tournament, even if Igor Karkaroff was giving you a little help on the side. And you've escaped me, twice. There is clearly something about you, Potter, and I'm afraid that's why I have to kill you."

"Well do it then," Harry spat, trying to gather up as much courage as he could. He would not die a coward. "Or are you too scared that I'll beat you again. It must be embarrassing, being beaten by a kid."

Voldemort was no longer laughing. He didn't look enraged but there was a certain anger in his eyes. If anything that was worse. He was still in control.

"You really think I'm going to fall for that, do you?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Do you really think I'd give you even a chance to escape?" Harry didn't say anything. He just looked straight into Voldemort's eyes.

It was fascinating looking into them up close. The redness that Harry had seen wasn't complete. There was black and brown and even orange in his eyes too and for some strange reason it gave Harry strength. Like everyone else Voldemort was still human.

Voldemort stepped away. "Circle around," he instructed his Death Eaters who all hastened to obey. "Clear the area." A couple of Death Eaters came forward to drag Barty Crouch Jr's mangled corpse out of the circle, under the watchful eye of Nagini, and another picked up Pettigrew's cage.

"You are an interesting specimen, Potter," Voldemort said, turning back to face him. "So much like myself when I was younger… and yet so different. Lucius." A figure on the edge of the circle surrounding Harry and Voldemort hesitated before stepping forward.

"Come now, Lucius Malfoy, there's no need for nerves," Voldemort encouraged.

Lucius Malfoy walked towards his master and as he did Voldemort reached out towards him. Malfoy flinched slightly, causing Voldemort to fix him with a challenging stare, before he went still again, allowing Voldemort to pull away his mask and pull down his hood, releasing his glistening blonde hair.

"Go untie Potter," Voldemort commanded. Lucius Malfoy did so immediately. From the pocket of his clothes he pulled a bejewelled knife, an instrument that looked more ceremonial than practical, and swiped at the ropes.

Harry looked towards Malfoy's face as he pulled the ropes loose, allowing Harry to step free, watching the eyes that were so identical to those of his son. But Malfoy didn't look at him. He retreated back to his place in the circle and Harry was alone, standing by the headstone on his own two feet for the first time in what felt like hours, facing Voldemort.

Voldemort regarded him for a moment before he stepped off to the side. A Pokéball lay on the ground, Harry realising with a lurch that it was the exact same spot that Barty Crouch had lain on before, and Voldemort picked it up, inspecting it.

He threw it across the clearing to land at Harry's feet.

"You have escaped me not once, not twice, but three times," Voldemort told him. "You may be under the mistaken impression that you have some sort of ability with which I cannot compete. Perhaps love, I do not know, but I will prove you wrong. Once and for all we will decide which is stronger, Harry Potter or Lord Voldemort."

There was silence at this pronouncement. A silent breeze whipped through the graveyard.

"Any last words?"

Harry hesitated. Last words?

"Draco Malfoy is failing at Herbology," he said loudly. Sniggers broke out throughout the surrounding Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy's face, still uncovered, was flushed in embarrassment.

Voldemort was smirking. "Anything else?"

"He sucks at Quidditch too," Harry added. He had no idea why he was saying this. "I mean really, really sucks." Harry could just imagine the humiliation Lucius Malfoy was feeling right now and it gave him a perverse sort of comfort.

"Well then," Voldemort said, still smirking. "With those… insightful last words, let the battle begin."

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry for the delay updating. Life, you know, gets in the way sometimes.

Anyway, hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you next time.


	27. Fight Or Flight

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

On instinct Harry threw himself to the ground. And good thing he did. At Voldemort's nonverbal command Nagini the Arbok had launched herself at Harry's neck, the dangerous poison type only just clearing him as she hit the ground opposite, coiling up to spring into a second attack.

"Charizard, use Metal Claw!" Harry cried and Charizard appeared before him just in time to deflect a second attack. Primed and ready for battle Charizard followed it up with a blast of fire which chased Nagini around the clearing, though she dodged with ease, slithering around Charizard's attack.

"Poison Sting!" Voldemort's first attack order sent Harry reeling as Nagini aimed her attack, not at Charizard, but at him. He dropped to the ground just in time and Charizard responded in kind, more flames bursting from his mouth as he looked to burn Nagini to a crisp.

Lying on the floor, Charizard's huge shadow protecting him, Harry came to a startling realisation. Voldemort did not care to play by the rules. He was going to prove himself stronger than Harry by killing him. Charizard would be dealt with later.

Well, two could play at that game. Charizard was powerful and once Blaze kicked in he would become even more so. And when it did Harry had just the move to take advantage.

"Charizard, Slash!" Harry ordered as Nagini tried to move in close. Nagini dodged the attack easily and spat acid towards Charizard's face, the fire type burning it before it could reach him. It couldn't be long now.

"Earthquake!" Charizard slammed his fists into the ground, sending everyone off balance including the surrounding Death Eaters, and Harry saw his chance. "Flamethrower!"

Charizard blazed a line of fire into the ground, acting as a barrier between him and Nagini, and in the confusion brought by the Earthquake and the flickering flames Harry climbed atop Charizard's back.

"Stop him!" Nagini flew through the flames, so fast Harry couldn't even react as he stood helpless, half atop Charizard's back, before Charizard's arm reached out and blocked Nagini's path.

Charizard roared in pain, Nagini's fangs burying deep into his skin, but he fought through it and took a hold of the poison type, pulling it unceremoniously from his arm despite the blood that gushed from the open wound, and threw her at Voldemort.

Charizard was in deep trouble. He was tired and hurt from the third task and now his arm was bleeding freely from the huge gash caused by Nagini's fangs. But while this was causing him tremendous pain it was also unlocking his greatest strength. Fire ran through his body, a surge so powerful Harry almost felt himself get blown back from behind Charizard's wing joints, as his Blaze came into effect when he needed it most.

"Alright Charizard, use Blast Burn!" Harry yelled and Charizard roared in response. His whole body grew hot, the flame on his tail climbing to never before seen heights as he opened his mouth wide and let out a searing blast of heat into the ground below.

It was like the world had exploded. The ground beneath their feet erupted like a volcano around them, their surroundings becoming hidden from view by the mounds of earth and ash that burst up around them. Death Eaters were yelling, some screaming, and Harry saw his one and only chance to get away.

"Lets go!" Harry shouted up to Charizard's head and he took off, twisting around to find his way back towards the copse of trees they'd arrived in. As they made a break for it they found Death Eaters blocking their path, four of them, and in unison they raised their Pokéballs. "Flamethrower!"

Three of the Death Eaters dove aside, avoiding the deadly flames. The fourth was not so quick and let out a scream as he became engulfed in fire. He staggered, shrieking in agony as the flames licked across his skin and he become one massive ball of fire.

Harry wanted to feel bad for him, felt his own stomach turn at the smell of burning flesh, but he pushed on, urging Charizard forwards. They crashed through the boundary of the trees, not caring for avoiding any obstacle they could just knock aside, and found the place where they had first appeared.

"Abra!" Harry cried, dismounting Charizard and rushing over to the tiny psychic type. "Abra! Wake up!" Abra blinked as he was awoken by Harry's shaking, looking around in surprise. Harry couldn't even imagine what it was thinking.

"Abra! You need to get us back to Hogwarts!" Harry shouted. Behind him he could already hear the Death Eaters reorganising and could only imagine Nagini slinking across the ground after them. "Please Abra! You've got to understand! We need to go back to Hogwarts!"

Abra blinked, cocking its head to the side curiously, and Harry felt dread at the thought that they weren't going to get back this way.

"Char!" Charizard roared, sending out a blast of fire back the way they had come. Sounds of shouting and screaming could be heard. The Death Eaters were gaining on them.

"Abra, please," Harry begged. "Please, take us back to Dumbledore." Abra looked up at his face, still wearing that same curious look, and nodded.

"Great," Harry said, hugely relieved. "Charizard! Come quick!" The huge fire type lumbered over, flame still burning strong, and Abra started to concentrate. At the last second Harry's eyes darted away.

Cedric Diggory's body lay by his side, so still and silent Harry hadn't even notice it there. His eyes stared glassily up into the starry sky. They would not see anything again.

He reached out and grabbed Cedric's arm, just before Abra finished gathering its energy and teleported them away.

* * *

Harry hit the ground hard. He'd been kneeling down when they'd started travelling so he found himself landing face first into the earth below. All around him he could hear noise and movement and he felt the need to get up and look around. But his energy was spent and so he just lay there, still clutching onto Cedric's arm, hoping that they were in the right place.

There was certainly a lot of movement around and Harry hadn't been attacked yet, which gave him hope. Above him he could feel Charizard's comforting warmth as he draped over him protectively, growling at anyone who dared come near.

"Harry!" That voice he did know and he looked up in relief as Dumbledore's face swam into view.

"Professor," he gasped, his voice barely making it out. "Professor. I've got to warn you."

"What's going on over here, Dumbledore? Why's this Charizard causing such a scene?" Harry was interrupted by Cornelius Fudge, though he could not see him. Suddenly Fudge's voice came to an abrupt halt. "Oh my gosh! Diggory! Shut off the cameras, quick, shut off the cameras!"

"Harry," Dumbledore said firmly, pulling his attention back to him. "What did you have to tell me?" Harry swallowed.

"Voldemort," Harry said. "He's back. He made a potion and got a body. And he's got Death Eaters and Pokémon and he killed Cedric." Dumbledore raised a hand.

"Please be calm, Harry," he said softly. "You've been through a lot tonight, do not put yourself under any more stress." Harry nodded wordlessly.

"Dumbledore, the Diggorys," Fudge's voice appeared again and this time Harry caught sight of his face. He was looking at Harry with a bewildered expression. Above him Charizard growled.

"Harry, if you would please return Charizard to his Pokéball," Dumbledore said calmly, not bothering to respond to Fudge who'd backed away once Charizard's attention was turned to him.

"But…" Harry complained, terrified of the thought of being without him. Charizard was the only thing that was making him feel safe at the moment.

Dumbledore's face was one of understanding. "I know how hard this must be for you, Harry," he told him sympathetically. "But we must let the others attend to Cedric. His parents will want to see him."

Harry swallowed, his stomach turning once more as he thought of Cedric. His arm was still solid in Harry's grasp.

He looked up to Charizard, meeting that concerned and protective stare, and knew that Dumbledore was right. He was back at Hogwarts, he was safe. And right now what mattered was that Cedric was taken care of.

"Return, Charizard," Harry said thickly, the words difficult to speak. Charizard looked distressed by Harry's decision but he did not fight it and soon the air above Harry was clear. The stars twinkled down at him.

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore spoke, causing Harry's attention to refocus on his aged, bearded face. "Now I must go speak with the Diggorys. They should be warned what has happened. Alastor, would you please guide Harry up to the Hospital Wing."

There was a grunt from behind him. Harry hadn't heard him approach. The grass of the Quidditch Pitch muffled his wooden leg.

Soon Dumbledore was gone, disappearing silently into the night, and Moody stepped forward.

"Come on," he said, grabbing a hold of Harry's shoulder and trying to tug him to his feet. Automatically Harry refused, half dragged up into a kneeling position. He refused to let go of Cedric's arm.

"Let him go, kid," Moody growled softly. "Holding on won't bring him back. Let go." Harry hesitated, a small part of him not believing in what Moody was saying, but as Moody gave another tug on his shoulder his fingers released on their own accord and Cedric's arm fell from his grasp.

The world seemed to turn upside-down. With nothing anchoring him anymore Harry clung on instead to the feeling of Moody's grizzled hand on his shoulder, guiding him away from the Quidditch Pitch. Looking back he saw a team of paramedics rush over to where Cedric lay, blocking him from view.

The walk back to the castle was long and silent. Maybe they were alone, or maybe they were surrounded by silent spectators watching them go by, it made little difference to Harry. His eyes remained fixed on the dark grass beneath his feet, his only thoughts to keep stumbling forward one foot after the other.

Moody continued silently by his side, hand clasped firmly on his shoulder, driving him forward at a constant, never wavering pace. This was only brought even more to Harry's attention as they entered the castle proper and he could hear Moody's wooden leg clunk rhythmically with every other step. Moody led Harry up the marble staircase and along the now awfully familiar route to the Hospital Wing.

"Harry!" Harry blinked, swaying slightly on the spot as a rush of movement could be seen ahead of him. The Weasleys, all of them, had been waiting in the Hospital Wing, accompanied by Hermione too, and they swarmed forward as Harry appeared in the doorway, bruised, dirty and exhausted.

"Alright, back off, give him some room," Moody growled, limping forwards and pulling Harry along with him. "Kid's been through a war."

Harry came to a sudden stop and found out why soon after as Madam Pomfrey's anxious face swam into view.

"Into bed," she ordered strictly and it took Harry a moment to process her words. A small but firm shove from Moody prompted him in the right direction and he sat down on the edge of one of the Hospital Wing beds. "Lie down."

Harry was beyond exhausted, his brain barely able to keep up with what was going on around him, but his body brought it back into sharp focus. Pain blossomed all over as he unwisely moved to lay down on his side. He screwed his eyes shut tight, his breathing becoming quick and heavy as he struggled with the pressure along the side of his body where a number of cuts and bruises made themselves brutally known.

Vaguely through the pain Harry felt a pair of hands come to his aid, lifting his legs up and onto the bed and applying pressure on his side to force him to roll over onto his back. Lying flat out Harry felt his face screw up even tighter, the pain radiating from wherever his body came into contact with the bed. He felt his chest start to constrict, felt his lungs struggle for air.

"Deep breaths, Potter," Madam Pomfrey's voice broke through the pain. "Slow, deep breaths. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out." With far more effort than it should ever have taken Harry started to heed her words, taking in long, deep breaths, ignoring the way it made everything hurt with the pain of a thousand knives, and letting it all go.

With his breathing back under control slowly but surely the pain started to recede back to a dull ache and Harry was able to open his eyes. The light shining above him kept them from fully opening but he was able to do so enough to squint at his surroundings.

"Ouch," he cried, surprised by a sudden sharp pain in his arm. Lifting his head slightly from the pillow Harry was able to make out Madam Pomfrey at his elbow. She was swabbing at the cut on his arm, removing the dried blood that caked the wound, and once she'd done so she set about wrapping it up tightly. Harry averted his eyes to the ceiling and clenched his jaw as he waited out the sharp pain as the bandage wound tightly round his arm.

A shifting to his left caught Harry's attention and he turned his head to look. The Weasleys and Hermione were standing in a huddle along the far wall, watching Harry with varying levels of worry.

"I'm alright," Harry muttered but his voice sounded weak and scratchy. His words slurred together slightly and as he blinked black spots briefly obscured his vision. He was just so tired. If only he could sleep.

"Stay with me here, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said sharply, snapping her fingers and jolting Harry away from the promise of slumber. "You need to get changed. Your current clothes are in no fit shape for use."

The last thing Harry wanted to do was to move, especially to get out of the bed he'd started to get so comfortable in, but under Madam Pomfrey's stern stare Harry pulled himself upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed with a grunt. Madam Pomfrey handed him a pair of standard issue pyjamas and directed him behind a screen a few steps away.

It took longer than Harry had anticipated to change. Not only were his limbs aching and stretching them was just asking for trouble the clothes themselves were proving stubborn to get off. Harry's shirt was sticking to his back, sweat having soaked right through it, and he struggled to bend down far enough to pull his trousers loose.

In the end it was a relief for Harry to limp back out from behind the screen in hospital garb, his clothes from the task left to rot on the floor where he'd taken them off, and settle back down into the bed once more.

Madam Pomfrey immediately went back to work.

"Hm, I'm afraid that's all I can do for you for now," she said, biting at her lip. She looked both thoughtful and worried. "I suppose all you can do now is rest." She turned to the Weasleys. "And what are you lot doing, hanging around," she said sharply. "The boy needs rest. I won't have any one of you causing him any distress."

"They can stay," Harry said hurriedly. "Please, I want them here. They won't bother me." They had waited for him, for how long Harry couldn't even guess. And he felt he needed them right now. He didn't want to be alone.

Madam Pomfrey looked torn.

"Alright then," she conceded eventually. "But if I get even a hint that any of you are causing Harry trouble…"

"We won't," Bill said firmly.

"You can count on that," Mr Weasley agreed. The sheer sincerity of his voice was enough to make Harry's heart hurt.

The Weasleys and Hermione gathered carefully around Harry's bed once Madam Pomfrey let them past, each of them looking uncomfortable to some degree. Harry could tell they were worried about what to say but Harry was happy to just let there be silence. As long as they were there that's all that mattered.

* * *

Some time later Harry was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of the door opening. Immediately Madam Pomfrey could be seen bustling forward, looking enraged, but she quickly stopped short.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," she greeted, half surprised half relieved.

Indeed Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway, gently closing the doors behind him, and he walked forward quietly, as though aware that noise was not appreciated within the room.

"Poppy, how is our guest?" Dumbledore asked softly and though his words were aimed at the matron his eyes went straight to Harry.

"Bashed up something rotten," Madam Pomfrey answered. "More cuts and bruises than I've ever seen on one student. But nothing too severe. Some time in the Hospital Wing and he should be back to normal." Dumbledore nodded his head slightly but from his expression Harry knew he didn't believe it. Harry didn't. How could he ever go back to normal?

Dumbledore made his approach to Harry's bedside, the Weasleys parting before him like the red sea, and he looked down on where Harry lay. He let out a long, troubled sigh.

"What I am about to ask of you is something I'd hoped never to ask of anyone," Dumbledore said sadly. "I wish I could delay, maybe a day or a week, but I'm afraid that if what you say is true then time may already be slipping through our grasp."

There was silence as Dumbledore looked down at Harry, the rest of the room's occupants looking curiously between the two. Harry realised that they didn't yet know. The idea of telling them brought a new pain than that which permeated his skin.

"If you would like to have the discussion in private…" Dumbledore suggested, his eyes roving over the Weasleys, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey. Harry shook his head. They deserved to know what was happening. They needed to know.

"I see," Dumbledore said understandingly. "Is there anyone else you would like with you right now?" Harry hesitated.

"Do you know if there's anyone… hanging around?" Harry asked nervously. There was one person in particular Harry wanted with him right now more than ever, but surely he could not show himself before so many people who still believed his guilt.

Dumbledore appeared to understand Harry's statement as though it were as clear as day. "He is in my office," Dumbledore informed him and Harry looked up hopefully. "If you would like I could send for him." Seeing Harry's expression Dumbledore did not need to wait for an answer.

"Alakazam," he said, releasing his powerful psychic type Pokémon. "If you would please inform our guest his presence is requested in the Hospital Wing." Alakazam vanished in a flash.

"And before he arrives I should give the rest of you fair warning," Dumbledore said, turning to look at the rest of the Weasleys and Madam Pomfrey. "This man is not what you think he is. His reputation in the Pokémon world is a lie and he is just as concerned for Harry's safety as everyone here in this room."

There was only a moment for everyone to share confused looks, and for Hermione and Ron to realise who Dumbledore was talking about, before the air behind Dumbledore seemed to shimmer and a Pokémon appeared silently in its place, accompanied by his trainer.

"Sirius," Harry spoke, so grateful to see the man appear before him.

"Sirius Black!" Mrs Weasley shrieked and there were cries of alarm from all over the room. Percy went pale, Fred and George looked at each other with wide eyes, and Ginny let out a startled squeak.

Sirius ignored all of this, his eyes fixed on Harry, and he hurried away from his Gallade to rush to his side, Hermione scampering out of her seat by Harry's bedside so Sirius could take her place. He took a hold of Harry's hand, clutching it tightly in both of his own, a look of worry marring his features.

"I'm alright," Harry said immediately, before Sirius could speak. And he was. Just seeing Sirius and being able to speak with him made it feel like a weight had been lifted from his chest. His body still ached, his eyes still struggled to stay open, but his heart felt just a little bit lighter now that Sirius was there.

Mrs Weasley was still in some state. She was gaping at Sirius, her face flushed and her eyes wide as her husband did his best to calm her, though he too looked quite taken aback. Harry felt the need to explain to Mrs Weasley, to make sure she knew that Sirius was innocent and that he meant no harm, but Dumbledore spoke up before he could say anything.

"I'm so sorry to have to ask," he said solemnly, his whole face seeming to sag with the weight of his despair. "But I need to hear what happened to you tonight, Harry. I need to know everything." Sirius's hands clenched tighter around Harry's.

"Can't this wait?" he said earnestly. "Look at him, Harry needs rest. Surely this can wait for another night." But Dumbledore shook his head.

"If you had heard what Harry has already told me, Sirius, you would understand why time is of the essence." Dumbledore turned his gaze to Harry. "Harry, if you could, please tell me what happened."

Harry hesitated. Where to start? Just thinking about the events of the last few hours sent Harry's head spinning. Images and sounds flashed through his mind and he could feel his breathing start to quicken once more as the memory of the adrenaline flowing through his body rose to the surface.

"Start from when you and Cedric were teleported by Abra," Dumbledore said firmly, his voice cutting through Harry's tangled thoughts with deep clarity. "Where were you taken?"

"A graveyard," Harry answered. Immediately Harry felt everyone around him suck in their breath but he was already shaking his head. "No, not a graveyard. Not at first. We arrived in this clearing, with trees all around us."

"And were you alone?" Dumbledore prodded patiently. Harry shook his head.

"There was a Houndour there," Harry told them, picturing in his mind the moment he had first seen the Pokémon. He remembered with a sickening feeling how he hadn't been worried about the Pokémon's presence. "It used Roar, like Mightyena did with Malfoy's Servine. Charizard and Feraligatr were forced back into their Pokéballs." Harry swallowed. "And then he showed himself."

There was a silence in the room.

"Voldemort," Dumbledore said and everyone but Harry, Dumbledore and Sirius flinched. "I take it he was showing his younger form?" Harry nodded.

"He was older than last time," Harry told him. "It was like he'd grown up. He was an adult."

"Perhaps what you were seeing was something akin to what he looked like before his defeat fourteen years ago," Dumbledore suggested. "And what happened then?"

But Harry couldn't continue. He couldn't tell them what happened next, couldn't even admit it to himself. In his mind's eye he saw Cedric's face, burned into his mind, neck twisted at some unnatural angle, blank eyes looking skyward.

"I take it this is where we lost Mr Diggory," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry swallowed.

"He had an Arbok," he said, his voice hoarse. "It wasn't normal, it was… dark. Like black gold. He called it Nagini." Harry shuddered. "When he appeared… he said to 'kill the spare'. And Nagini just appeared, right at our feet, and it…" Harry stopped. He could not go on.

"I see," Dumbledore said. His eyes had lost their usual twinkle. They looked dull and tired. "And may I ask what happened to yourself."

"He had a Death Eater," Harry told him. "He grabbed me. I tried to… to fight or… but I couldn't." Harry stopped. He took a moment to focus on his breathing, looking up at the blank stone ceiling. "He took Charizard's Pokéball and brought me to the graveyard," Harry continued, his voice regaining some of its strength. "He tied me to a tombstone and there was Voldemort…" Harry stopped again.

"He got his body back," he whispered. "There was a potion of some sort. It took my blood to make it work. And he went into the potion and then he had a physical human body again. He was solid. He could pick things up and touch things again. And then all his Death Eaters arrived."

Harry stopped. For the first time since he'd started telling his story he was struggling to piece together what had happened. From the moment Harry had been tied to the headstone he had been nothing but a spectator, and what he had seen was both mind-boggling and horrifying.

But there was one thing that stood out above all others.

"Peter," he said, turning to Sirius. "Pettigrew. He'd transformed back. Voldemort had him in his pocket. He threw him in a cage." Sirius just shushed Harry, calming the frantic boy.

"Pettigrew doesn't matter," he told him softly. "I only care about you, Harry. That's all I care about." Harry nodded, taking in his words. It was still hard to cope with Pettigrew's fate, a prisoner for all eternity even if he did escape Voldemort's cage. But if Sirius could put it to one side then so could he.

"I take it Mr Pettigrew was responsible for Voldemort's sudden rise in strength," Dumbledore hypothesised.

"He went running to him after we found out he was still alive," Harry told him. "But it was the other one that did it, after Pettigrew transformed again. It was Barty Crouch."

A scoffing sound brought Harry short.

"Barty Crouch," Percy said, looking on in disbelief. "He's no more a Death Eater than anyone."

"Not him," Harry said before Ron could tell Percy to shove it. "His son. He was a Death Eater, he was arrested soon after Voldemort was defeated, but Crouch broke him out of Azkaban. His wife wanted to see him before she died."

"And I suppose Barty Crouch Jr made his escape, some time in the past year, I would hazard a guess," Dumbledore said, a look of understanding passing over his face. "It would explain why Barty has been so noticeably absent during the tournament. To those that know him well it was seen as very unusual behaviour, no matter how ill he claimed to be."

"He was searching for him," Harry said. "But he didn't find him." Harry's mind flashed to the scene where Barty Crouch Jr was held by the throat by Voldemort. It was important Harry tell them, so they knew, but he couldn't bare himself to explain the whole thing. The fate of Houndour was not what was important.

"Voldemort killed him," Harry said. "He challenged Voldemort. Voldemort said his mother had been weak and Crouch disagreed. So Voldemort killed him."

Dumbledore sighed. "Voldemort has never shown remorse for anything he's done in his life," he said sadly. "He does not understand the value of mercy. His followers are just as likely to incur his wrath, if not more so, than his enemies. And he does not hold back when punishing what he sees as lack of loyalty." Harry shuddered. Crouch's horrified screams reverberated around his head.

"Harry, I know this must be terrible but I need you to continue to tell us what happened."

Harry struggled. His mind was still reeling, the sequence of events scrambled, but suddenly something jumped out at him.

"Karkaroff!" Harry cried, causing several of the people around him to jump. "Voldemort said something about him, about him helping me win the tournament." Harry was confused. "Was that true?"

Dumbledore looked hesitant.

"Karkaroff fled, tonight," Dumbledore said eventually. "The moment Abra teleported you away, as a matter of fact. Professor Moody tried to stop him but he was already beyond our reach before we realised he had orchestrated the whole thing."

"How?" Harry asked. "How could Karkaroff have made it so I'd win?"

"With great difficulty," Dumbledore said. "He couldn't do anything obvious to help you so he needed to use more subtle techniques. During the planning of the third task Karkaroff took particular interest in the Pokémon the champions were to face. I previously thought he'd been trying to give Mr Krum a favourable run but now I see it was quite the opposite. Plus I believe he was the one behind the attacks on Mr Krum and Mr Diggory."

"He was trying to take them out of action?" Harry guessed.

"Or at least make things difficult," Dumbledore agreed. "The attack on Mr Krum I believe was designed to ensure he'd use his Mienshao in the task, which would find it incredibly difficult with Pokémon like Slowbro set up against it."

Harry shook his head in confusion. "But then, Stefanov…"

"Is being watched closely by the aurors," Dumbledore explained. "But has so far shown no signs of having been in cahoots with his superior."

"That doesn't mean he's not though, does it?" Harry said, panicked. Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Let me worry about that," he said simply. "What I want you to do is continue your story. Voldemort has returned with his Death Eaters by his side. So how did you escape?"

"Voldemort wanted to prove himself," Harry told him shakily. "He wanted to beat me in a one on one battle. He had Lucius Malfoy untie me and give me back Charizard." From his side he heard Mr Weasley mutter 'I knew it', only to be followed by a scolding from his wife.

"Arthur."

"Voldemort asked if I had any last words," Harry said before he stopped short and blushed. Everyone else looked confused.

"Yes?" Dumbledore prompted.

"I said Draco Malfoy was failing at Herbology," Harry admitted, staring down at his sheets. "And that he sucked at Quidditch." He kept his head bowed, face bright red in embarrassment, not daring to look at the expressions of the people around him.

Ron burst out laughing.

"Brilliant," he chortled and Fred and George joined in too, even Harry felt his lips twitch slightly.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, a hint of amusement in his voice as Harry glanced up. "I imagine Lucius's appearance set you off?" Harry nodded mutely. "And what happened then?"

"And then we battled," Harry said simply. Everyone stopped laughing.

"I see," Dumbledore said simply. Harry felt the need to explain.

"It wasn't a real battle though," he told him. "Voldemort wasn't attacking Charizard, he was attacking me. He didn't even care about Charizard at all. I was only able to get away because Charizard had learned Blast Burn and then we went back to Abra and…" He tailed off.

"You returned here," Dumbledore finished simply for him. Harry nodded.


	28. A Parting Of The Ways

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

* * *

There was a long silence as Harry's story ended. The weight of what had happened settled over those surrounding his hospital bed. Harry, however, felt slightly better. He felt lighter now he'd told his story, and even more tired, such that he felt like he could nod off right this moment.

"Minister," Mad-Eye Moody's voice called from his post guarding the Hospital Wing. "What's got you in such a hurry?" Dumbledore's eyes immediately sharpened.

"Sirius quick, you must not be seen," he instructed. Sirius stood up quickly, Gallade appearing right behind him, and together they disappeared.

"Dumbledore," Minister for Pokémon, Cornelius Fudge, bustled into the Hospital Wing, looking harried. "Holy Arceus, Dumbledore, what in the blazes has happened? I've just left the Diggorys, they're hysterical. How could something like this happen? The boy, he's dead. Neck snapped."

"I would kindly ask that you calm yourself, Cornelius," Dumbledore said shortly. "These are very difficult circumstances and if you have not noticed we are not alone." Fudge coloured as he took in the Weasleys, all crowded around Harry's bed. "Harry has been through an incredible ordeal tonight, and he is to be given peace to rest."

"Eh, yes," Fudge said awkwardly. His bowler hat quickly found itself in his hands and he twirled it nervously. "My apologies." He turned to Dumbledore. "But what happened? Whatever happened to that poor boy? Where did they go?"

"A long way away," Dumbledore told him. "Far from Hogwarts grounds. It appears the localised anti-teleportation field Professor Karkaroff argued for to restrict Ms Delacour's Gardevoir had a disruptive effect on the one covering the school grounds, allowing Abra to teleport out freely. Most likely on Karkaroff's instruction."

"And the boy?"

"He was murdered, Cornelius," Dumbledore said simply. "You have seen the wounds. Fang marks in the neck. There is no doubt about it."

"Dear," Fudge said, looking horrified. "Attacked by a wild Pokémon. What sort of luck is that?"

"I don't believe it was luck at all, Cornelius," Dumbledore said simply. "I believe the attack was ordered. In fact I can say with certainty that Harry and Cedric were abducted from right under our noses and that the one responsible is responsible too for Cedric's death."

"Who?" Fudge asked. "Karkaroff?"

"Not Karkaroff," Dumbledore said. "He was merely a pawn in the plan."

"Who then?" Dumbledore paused.

"Lord Voldemort," he said simply. A shudder went around the room, Fudge included. He pulled himself together.

"Now now Dumbledore, you can't be serious," Fudge asserted. "You-know-who is dead. He died fourteen years ago."

"As you know I have long since denied the prevailing opinion that Voldemort had been destroyed once and for all," Dumbledore told him. "And in the past few years I have seen evidence of this myself, which has been reported to you."

"Good heavens Dumbledore, you can't be suggesting what I think you are," Fudge said. "I knew I should've said when you told me about Quirrel and that chamber that I did not believe it. You-know-who is not back. He could not be back. He died, fourteen years ago."

"He almost did," Dumbledore corrected. "But enough of him was left to live on, even as little more than a shadow. And tonight he regained his full power." But Fudge was shaking his head.

"You've served the Pokémon community for a long time, Dumbledore, but I'm afraid that your time has come," Fudge told him. "You've lost it. I was fine pretending when it was just Quirrel - the man's greed caused his injuries - but a student has died, Dumbledore. An innocent boy."

"Killed by Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore finished. "And unless you accept that fact there will be many more young, innocent boys that will share the same fate." But Fudge was still shaking his head.

"I think it's about time you stepped down from Hogwarts," Fudge said in a kindly voice. "The pressures are perhaps a bit too much for your advanced age."

Harry's eyes widened at that. Dumbledore leave Hogwarts? That was the very last thing they needed now.

"You can't do that," Harry blurted out. Every eye in the room turned to him.

"Eh, no, but I'm sure the Board of Governors will agree that it is about time," Fudge admitted.

"But then you are just going to leave everyone at Hogwarts at risk," Harry complained. "And when Voldemort comes he'll be able to take it over."

"You too," Fudge barked in shock. "You are following this story also?"

"Perhaps you would like to hear Harry's version of events," said Dumbledore calmly. "He was, after all, an eyewitness."

"It was Voldemort," Harry said immediately and everyone flinched. "I saw him. He was there and he had his Death Eaters and Malfoy was there…"

"Lucius Malfoy?" Fudge said incredulously. "Lucius Malfoy is a fine, upstanding citizen who was cleared of being a Death Eater fourteen years ago."

"And yet where was he tonight?" Dumbledore asked smoothly. "This is one of the most highly anticipated events of the year. Surely Mr Malfoy would not dare to miss it."

"He was there," Harry insisted. "I would recognise him anywhere." But Fudge would not be convinced. He was shaking his head, even stepping backwards away from them.

"This is insanity," he announced. "I don't know what's been going on at this school but I have never been more convinced that it is time for you to step down, Dumbledore. I will be in touch." Fudge turned to leave.

From behind him Mr Crouch came into view, having slipped in silently without anyone noticing, and Harry saw a chance to convince Fudge after all.

"Mr Crouch, your son," he said, stopping Fudge short. "He died." Mr Crouch showed no emotion but Fudge was not happy.

"Yes, many years ago," he said. "And I think it is very poor taste to bring this up now."

"He died tonight," Harry said, interrupting Fudge and looking straight at Crouch. "Voldemort killed him. He spoke out of turn, said his mum wasn't weak for doing what she did." Something flickered in Crouch's expression. Harry felt hope that he may be able to get through to him.

"Now really, enough of this," Fudge said angrily. "This has gone too far. I'll be having stern words with the Board of Governors, Dumbledore, mark my words." Harry ignored him. Crouch still wasn't saying anything.

"I don't blame you for what you did," Harry said earnestly, and he didn't. "I understand. I might have done the same thing if I were in your situation. But you made a mistake and the only way to make up for it is to tell the truth."

"No! No! That's enough!" Fudge intervened angrily. He'd reached his tipping point. "I will not listen to this nonsense any longer. It is clear to me that this school has fallen far below the standards I had expected. There will be changes next year. Big changes." He stormed out, passing Moody in the doorway, and disappeared from sight, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"It's not too late," Dumbledore said softly. He was looking at Crouch. "The truth can set you free. This has been a terrible tragedy but the first step is to be honest with ourselves. Only then can we prevail against our enemies."

Crouch didn't say anything. His features remained stiff and unemotional. He turned to leave without even an indication that he'd heard Dumbledore's words but stopped short.

"Your winnings," he said stiffly, holding up a bag that clinked with the sound of moving coins. "Five hundred galleons, half the total prize fund to each champion."

"I don't want it," Harry said simply. The money would always be tainted with Cedric's death. "Give it to the Diggorys."

Crouch nodded, putting the sack back into the confines of his suit pocket, and then left the room.

"Professor," Percy said hesitantly. He had half risen from his seat. "Perhaps I should…" Dumbledore favoured him with a look, seeming to understand what he was trying to say. He nodded.

Percy scurried from the room at Dumbledore's direction, disappearing quickly as he hurried after the Minister and Mr Crouch.

"It seems like the Minister won't be taking much advice from myself in the future," Dumbledore explained. "It will be useful to have someone on the inside Fudge considers loyal to him."

A sudden shifting in the air drew Harry's attention and he turned to see Sirius re-materialise by his side.

"I was in Pomfrey's office," Sirius explained. Trust him not to do the sensible thing and get out of there. Though Harry was grateful that he had chosen to stay behind.

"Then I suppose that means you are aware we'll be receiving no help from the Ministry in our fight against Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "We must regroup. Round up the old crowd. Dedalus Diggle, Mundungus Fletcher, Emmeline Vance. Start with Remus Lupin, he should help give you credibility." Sirius nodded.

"I should go too," Mr Weasley said as Sirius made to leave, standing up. "There are many in the Ministry I am sure can be convinced of the truth, provided they hear it from me first." Dumbledore nodded his approval. "If Mr Black would not mind giving me a lift home?" Mrs Weasley looked worried.

"Arthur," she whispered fervently. "Are you sure about this?" Mr Weasley nodded.

"I've got a lot of calls to make," Mr Weasley said. "And then I'll have to give my condolences to Amos and Felicity, when they are ready."

"But Arthur, with him?" Mrs Weasley pressed, lowering her voice still further but it was still easy to pick up her words.

"Sirius is completely innocent of the crimes he has been accused of," Dumbledore assured her without hesitation. "He is no more a danger to Arthur than I am."

"It's true," Harry insisted, looking at Mrs Weasley. "Peter Pettigrew was the one to kill all those people. You can trust Sirius."

Mrs Weasley still looked unsure but she relented, watching worriedly as Mr Weasley walked round the end of the bed and joined Sirius and Gallade.

"How are you going to get out of here?" Charlie asked curiously. "You can't Teleport out of Hogwarts." Sirius grinned.

"There are other ways in and out of Hogwarts," he said, and a moment later he, Mr Weasley and Gallade were gone.

"Wicked," Fred and George muttered together.

Dumbledore turned to Bill.

"I know this is asking a lot of you," he said. "You were not a part of the resistance last time and you are perfectly entitled to decline."

"What is it you need?" Bill asked. Clearly he was never going to refuse him.

"I need someone to talk with the Kadabra at Gringotts," Dumbledore instructed. "It is highly unlikely they'll agree to limiting access to Death Eaters' vaults but just informing them of the change in circumstances may be enough to secure some goodwill. At the very least we will look for the Kadabra to stay neutral going forward."

Bill nodded. "I'll speak to my line manager," he said. "The Kadabra will appreciate me going through the proper channels." Dumbledore nodded his agreement.

"Take Alakazam," Dumbledore said and the powerful psychic type suddenly reappeared in the room. "He may help give you credibility with the Kadabra."

Bill nodded and a moment later he too was gone, Alakazam teleporting them a long way away from Hogwarts.

"Alastor," Dumbledore said at last, turning to the door. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, waiting for instruction. "If you could please fetch Professor Snape and send him to my office. His relationship with the free Death Eaters may never be as important."

Moody grunted in response, turning and limping out the doors. The sound of his wooden leg on the stone floor faded away.

Dumbledore sighed.

"I am afraid we're facing a difficult time in the years and months ahead," he said tiredly. "I wish I could leave you with some words of comfort but alas, I would be doing a disservice by lying to you. We can only hope that with will and dedication we will see this through. For that I pray."

* * *

There was little atmosphere around Hogwarts in the day or so that followed. The occupants of the castle were silent. The huge crowds that had gathered for the final task had all left, and soon enough the crews employed to remove the maze in the Quidditch pitch were gone too, leaving Hogwarts still and quiet.

The death of Cedric Diggory had rocked the school. In some parallel universe the whole of Hogwarts would be celebrating, their two champions having beaten away the competition of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, but the results of the Tri-Pokémon Tournament were not important to anyone anymore.

The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were taking the loss almost as bad, and in the case of the Durmstrang contingent there was an awful amount of guilt too. The exact nature of Karkaroff's treachery had not reached the wider populous but everyone knew that he had had something to do with Cedric's death and he had not been seen since his pitched battle with Moody on the castle lawn and his getaway on the back of his Staraptor.

Mrs Weasley and Charlie remained for a while at Hogwarts, some of the few that did that weren't teachers and students, providing some support to their younger family members while waiting for Bill and Mr Weasley to return. They did the very next day, transported back to the castle grounds by Dumbledore's Alakazam, and they picked up the two vehicles they'd used to get there the night before and drove Mrs Weasley and Charlie back home.

There wasn't long left to the Hogwarts term, the third task having taken place on the last day of exams, and on the day before the Hogwarts students were due to take the Hogwarts Express back to London the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students said their goodbyes.

But Harry wasn't there to see them off. He would be, his absence would be highly noticeable and would send a bad signal to their foreign friends, but he had something he needed to do first. Something difficult, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

The harbour under the school was very different during the day. Harry had only ever experienced it at night, on his first arrival to the school and then again when he'd caught Lapras, and he marvelled at the way the light shone through the opening in the rock face and glistened off the water as he carefully descended the stone steps to the bottom.

The Lapras there looked at him questioningly, though they did seem to recognise him and did not seem bothered by his presence. Harry left them alone. They weren't the reason he was down here.

He walked over to a secluded section of the lower platform, kneeling down by the water's edge, and he pulled out Lapras's Pokéball. The water and ice type Pokémon appeared before him with a soft cry. He didn't know what was about to happen. Harry hadn't seen him since before the third task.

"I'm sorry about this," Harry said first off and Lapras tilted his head in confusion before looking around at his surroundings. He seemed to slowly put the pieces together.

"It's been great, having you with me," Harry told him as Lapras looked back to him with sad eyes. "I'll always remember our time together. I can't thank you enough for all the help you gave me with the second task. But this is the right thing to do."

"You have an important job here," Harry told him and Lapras looked out over his fellow Pokémon. "Hagrid's going to need you to help get the students across the lake when the school year starts again. Those kids will need you to help them see just how wonderful the Pokémon world is. Now more than ever."

Lapras still looked sad but he nodded. He understood what Harry was saying. What Harry wasn't saying was the real reason he was leaving Lapras behind.

Lapras was too nice. He did not like violence. He was not scrappy or determined even though he was powerful and always gave his best effort. Harry had survived his encounter with Voldemort due to Charizard's power, but also his pure strength of will. Lapras would not have managed to do the same thing. He did not have that stubborn streak, the willingness to play dirty and take advantage of any weakness he sees. Talonflame had that ability, he'd proved it in Quidditch, and Pikachu had shown he had the fight in him, despite his young age.

But Lapras never would. It was clear as the water beneath him that Lapras was not suited for war. And that's what Harry was heading to.

So he said goodbye, leaving the water and ice type Pokémon behind, and shut off the part of him that begged him to reconsider. He was stronger than that, he had to be. Even as he turned at the door and caught sight of Lapras's sad eyes staring up at him he had the strength to turn away. After all, this was what was best for both of them.

He rejoined Ron and Hermione in the Entrance Hall, quiet and unresponsive. Ron and Hermione had already expected that but still they looked worried.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked. Harry nodded. He couldn't dwell on it. He had to move on.

He walked out into the sunlight without a word, Ron and Hermione following behind him, and looked out over the vista.

The grounds were littered with students. In just an hour both the carriages of Beauxbatons and the ship of Durmstrang, so long now a staple of the Hogwarts grounds, would be gone, and the students were saying their last goodbyes.

Even with the cold encasing Harry's heart, held there specifically to see him through his farewell to Lapras, he could feel it melt slightly as he watched the scene before him. Throughout the year students from each of the three schools had come together, forging friendships almost unnoticed as time had past. Now they were saying goodbye but the sadness and melancholy was real. They would honestly miss their friends, no matter how short a time they had known them.

"It iz beautiful, iz it not," the heavily accented voice drew Harry's attention away and he found himself facing Fleur Delacour. They had seen each other since the task, though only in passing, and yet there was still an ease he felt in her presence. Perhaps it was the tournament that had brought them all together. It only made the loss of Cedric that much more painful.

"Yeah," Harry admitted, shutting off his thoughts about Cedric. He could drown himself in those thoughts in his own time but for now he needed to be strong. "Yeah, it's good to see."

"Zey are really friends, non," Fleur continued. "I hadn't noticed until now. C'est magnifique." She turned to face him.

"And you, 'Arry," she said. "I hope we will see each other again." Harry nodded.

"Me too," he told her. "You've been a worthy champion." Fleur laughed.

"I think zat I should say zat to you?" she laughed. "You are ze 'little boy', non?" Harry blushed. He had not realised she knew how much that comment had got to him.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked. "Once you get back, I mean. This is your last year at Beauxbatons, isn't it." Fleur nodded.

"I 'ave a job offer from Gringotts," Fleur told him. "Zey 'ave a branch in Paris but maybe I will be sent to London sometime."

"Let me know if you do," Harry told her. "I'll come visit you." Fleur smiled.

"I would like zat," she said. She took a step forward and planted a kiss softly on his lips. "Goodbye, 'Arry." And she walked away.

"Blimey," Ron muttered, eyes wide. "Wow. Good one, mate." Harry blushed slightly. He had to admit he'd quite liked the kiss but at the same time he knew it didn't mean what Ron thought it did. It was Fleur's way of saying goodbye, and good luck. She knew what had happened, she understood what lay ahead, and what lay ahead for him. And even if she didn't return to Britain Harry would have her support.

"I don't think I vill be matching that farewell." Krum had appeared while Harry was lost in thought, some of his Durmstrang friends hovering a distance behind him nervously. Harry let out a short, genuine laugh. He had never heard Krum make a joke before.

"Maybe not to me," he said. "But I'm sure Hermione wouldn't mind." Krum blushed, again a first, and Harry could only imagine Hermione was doing the same. For some reason it made him feel warm inside.

"I vish to express my sympathies," Viktor said, his expression becoming serious once more. "Cedric vas a fine man. He did not deserve vot has happened." Harry nodded. He completely agreed.

"I know the history of Durmstrang vill not help convince you but I assure you ve stand behind you," Viktor told him. "Vith Karkaroff gone the last influence of the Dark Lord goes too. Professor Stefanov will take over. He is a good man. He vill not allow the Dark Lord to return to our school."

Harry nodded. Stefanov had been questioned extensively after the final task, many suspicious after Karkaroff had shown his true colours. It seemed that Harry had wildly misjudged the man. He had been suspicious of Karkaroff from the start. Everything Harry saw as evidence that he was looking for a way to support the Death Eaters had been the opposite. He'd been looking for information to stop them.

Now Stefanov was standing aboard the Durmstrang ship and was calling his students to him. Viktor hesitated slightly, before jerking his head to his friends to go on ahead and turning back to Harry. He held out his hand.

"You are a brave and honourable man, Harry Potter," he said firmly. "It has been an honour to compete vith you. Know you will always have my support and trust anytime you have need of it." Harry looked down at the hand extended, contemplating it, before reciprocating.

"You have the same from me," Harry told him. "We are together in this war, and friends are always there for each other. Good luck back at Durmstrang. Hopefully we'll meet again."

Krum nodded curtly and they both let go. He turned to face all three of them and gave a short bow before he too left, walking up behind his fellow students and docking the ship. As he did so the walkway was removed and the Durmstrang ship started to drift from the water's edge.

"Do you think we'll ever see them again?" Hermione wondered, looking out across the grounds. Hagrid and Madame Maxime were working together to harness in the fearsome Salamence that carried the Beauxbatons carriage as the blue uniformed students said their final goodbyes.

"You know, I think we will," Ron said thoughtfully. "I think this is the beginning of something, you know. There's going to be some shit later on but this… this has done some good."

Hermione nodded, smiling slightly at Ron's words, before turning to Harry. "What do you think, Harry?"

It was a loaded question and all manner of thoughts crossed his mind. He thought about Voldemort, out there with all his power and support back again, and of the Minister, refusing to believe that he could have returned. He thought of Sirius, a part of Dumbledore's secret resistance, and of Amos Diggory and the grief he must be dealing with right now.

And he thought of the students, those standing on the grounds waving and those in the ship as it sailed off and in the carriage as the Salamence lifted into the air.

"Yeah, we'll see them again," he said, watching as the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students disappeared into the distance. "We'll see them soon."

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's it for 'Harry Potter and the Trials of Champions'. I hope you've all enjoyed this instalment of the series and will continue to enjoy the next, which will be 'Harry Potter and the Legion of Ho-oh'.

As for the review wondering why Abra was willing to take Harry back to Hogwarts I hope this chapter clears it up. Abra wasn't Karkaroff's Pokemon, merely a Pokemon they decided to use to transport the winners of the task. And since Karkaroff was a judge and in a place of authority Abra had no reason question him when he told Abra to make an additional stop before taking the champions back. You can imagine how confused the poor Pokemon must be about everything that has happened, especially since it was undoubtedly asleep most of the time.

Anyway, that's enough for 'Trials of Champions'. As usual I will be taking a short break before uploading the next story (which is fortunate since I wouldn't be able to upload next week anyway). I hope you all enjoyed 'Trials of Champions' and are looking forward to 'Legion of Ho-oh'. Until then I'll leave you with a little preview of 'Legion of Ho-oh':

 _Chapter 1: Piers Polkiss_

 _In the quiet little suburb of Little Whinging, Surrey, sat a house, Number 4 Privet Drive, in which everything was normal. There was nothing unusual, or even remotely interesting, and the people inside were really quite content with their lives._

 _Harry Potter was not in Number 4 Privet Drive. He was some way away in the local park, sitting on the one remaining swing that hadn't been ruined by vandals. He was mostly alone, the time getting late and all the young kids and their parents having already left, but he felt no desire to leave._

 _Life at the Dursleys had never been easy, but usually the reason for that had been the Dursleys themselves. Now Harry had problems much more worrisome than Dudley's bullying, Aunt Petunia's chores, and Uncle Vernon's disapprovals. His problems kept him up at night._

 _Just a couple of months ago Harry had found himself in a position more perilous than any he'd ever been in before, alone, tied to a headstone, with Lord Voldemort standing in front of him. The most evil trainer in living memory had been unwise to allow Harry the chance to defend himself, allowing Harry to return to the safety of Hogwarts with his fellow student's body, Cedric Diggory, to warn everyone that Voldemort had returned._

 _Since then Harry had been carted back to the Dursleys with the promise that he wouldn't be there for long and… nothing. Nothing had happened. Voldemort, wherever he was and whatever he was doing, was completely silent. There was not even a whisper of his doings. No unexplained deaths, no unnatural disasters, nothing. It worried Harry._


End file.
